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Sadie

Page 4

by Sarah Price


  Chapter Four

  Sadie finished hanging the wet laundry on the clothesline. Despite the cold temperature, she had awoken extra early this Monday morning to tackle her chores, hoping she could finish before the noon meal. If she got everything done, there would be just enough daylight left for her to escape to the woods before she had to be back to help her father with the evening milking.

  The previous day, Rachel’s sorrow had not dissipated. Instead, she’d spent most of the afternoon lying in her bed, alternating between crying and barking orders at Sadie. Thank heavens it was a Sunday and a day of rest. At least Sadie had been able to escape the house for a bit and take solace in the outdoors.

  This was worse than the other times Rachel had learned she was not carrying a baby. Not only was she sad and despondent but she seemed especially bitter as well.

  And she was taking it out on Sadie.

  “Those sheets aren’t clean enough!”

  Sadie was startled, then froze in place, her hand on the wooden clothespin. She refused to turn around, not wanting to give Rachel the satisfaction of having startled her.

  “You need to bleach them. Take them down and wash them again!” Rachel yelled out from the front porch.

  Sadie wasn’t about to argue. Instead, she unpinned the sheet, popping the clothespin into her apron pocket.

  “All of them!”

  Sighing, Sadie did as Rachel commanded. She knew that obedience to one’s parents was one of God’s commandments, but Rachel was making it a hard rule to follow, indeed. Sadie knew that those bedsheets were as white as freshly fallen snow, but she also knew that there was no sense in arguing with Rachel.

  “And the kitchen floor . . . It’s filthy. I want that scrubbed today.”

  Another sigh escaped Sadie’s lips. She had just scoured it with borax two days before. Surely it hadn’t gotten “filthy” in just forty-eight hours.

  Clearly, a walk in the woods was not going to happen today.

  After removing all the sheets, Sadie hoisted the laundry basket onto her hip and slowly made her way back to the house. When she got to the kitchen, she ran the hot water in the diesel-powered washer that sat in the far corner. She could feel the scorn from her stepmother’s eyes as she peered over her shoulder from time to time while making dough for a pie crust. She was relentless, watching Sadie’s every move, and Sadie couldn’t help but feel that no matter how many times she washed the sheets, they would never be clean enough.

  By the time Sadie began to rinse them, Rachel had started preparing the late-afternoon meal. She could hear her stepmother talking to herself in a low voice as she moved about the kitchen peeling and rinsing the carrots and cutting the chicken with a meat cleaver. If Sadie didn’t know better, she would have thought Rachel was preparing a great feast, for all the pot banging and dish clanking that was going on, rather than making chicken and dumplings.

  An hour later, Sadie had finally wrung out the last of the bedsheets and hung them back on the clothesline to dry. She suspected that Rachel had retired to her bedroom while the chicken stew cooked in the oven. She was thankful for the quiet time without Rachel’s eyes watching her every move. Uncertain as to whether Rachel was napping, Sadie made sure to be extra careful when she entered the house. She gently closed the screen door so there would be no noise and tiptoed into the kitchen to begin washing the floor. She certainly had no desire to accidentally wake Rachel if she was sleeping. Just as she was about to fill the bucket with hot water, she heard the sound of the hinges on the bathroom door creak. Rachel wasn’t in the bedroom, after all. Sadie put the bucket down and quietly made her way along the hall, stopping just shy of the partially open door. In the dim lighting of the hallway, she could just make out Rachel leaning toward the mirror to study her reflection.

  Sadie watched, her back pressed against the wall so Rachel wouldn’t see her shadow as Rachel scrutinized every angle of her face. She gently grabbed her skin with the tips of her fingers and pulled. First the corners of her eyes, then her upper lip and chin. Finally, Rachel pulled the skin on her neck, stretching her flesh upward as if to tighten her skin.

  “I’m not old,” Rachel mumbled to herself, unaware that she was being watched. She turned her head from side to side, still gazing at her image. “And I’m still as beautiful as always. More so than that young girl!”

  Stunned, Sadie pressed her lips together and tiptoed back to the kitchen. Such vanity, she thought, astounded by her stepmother’s self-admiration. Prideful behavior was frowned upon by the Amish and rarely reared its head. To see it on display so close up was shocking, indeed.

  It wasn’t what a person looked like that mattered, but what the person held in his or her heart. God did not judge people on their outward appearances but by their actions toward others as well as their commitment to his word.

  And yet Rachel appeared to be overly concerned with her looks as well as her age. Sadie was suddenly reminded of Psalm 119:37, a Bible verse she had memorized in school. “Turn away my eyes from looking at vanity, And revive me in Your ways.”

  Vanity has no place in this world, Sadie thought, disturbed by this revelation.

  All her life, Sadie had been taught that vanity was a sin. Indeed, that was a core belief of the plain Amish way of life. Oh, Sadie knew that there had to be some level of attraction between men and women before they started courting and eventually married. But she also knew that a young man would never court a woman if he felt that she was not kind and righteous, a true believer in God and Jesus. And it was equally important that both individuals followed God’s commandments.

  Only then would a couple consider whether they were well suited for a lifetime commitment. Looks were the least of the qualities considered.

  “Did I just see you re-hanging the laundry?”

  At the sound of her father’s voice, there was a small gasp from the bathroom and then the door was latched shut. Sadie turned around. She must not have hidden her emotions, for the look on his face quickly morphed into one of concern.

  Jacob reached out and touched her arm. “Why are you standing in the dark hallway? Are you feeling poorly, Sadie?”

  She wanted to deny it and force a smile. There was no point in telling her father about what she had just witnessed. Jacob thought highly of Rachel; after all, she was his wife. Although Sadie often wondered if he truly loved her, at least in the way he had loved his first wife. Still, Sadie would never intentionally speak disparagingly about Rachel to him, even if she was telling the truth.

  “I’m . . . fine. I was just checking on Rachel to see if she was feeling any better.”

  He made a face as if he didn’t quite believe her. “What happened with the laundry, then? I know I saw you hang those same sheets earlier this morning. Why are they back on the clothesline?”

  Sadie knew she couldn’t lie to her father. She hesitated, though, hoping to find the right words to respond in truth without speaking ill of her stepmother.

  “Rachel didn’t think they were clean enough, so she asked me to rewash them,” she offered at last.

  Jacob took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He reached up, removed his hat, and wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve. A ring of sweat pressed down his hair where the hat had rested. “That’s not right, Sadie. Those sheets looked perfectly fine. Why, they practically sparkled in the morning sunlight.”

  Sadie held her tongue.

  “She must be truly hurting,” he muttered, more to himself than to Sadie, while looking down the hallway to the closed bathroom door with concern etched on his face. “I don’t understand why it’s so important to her. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.” He plopped his hat back upon his head. “Why, last night, I told her that she’s not young anymore, not like you are, Sadie. She just might be too old to have a boppli.”

  No doubt that was the reason for her strange and hurtful comments, Sadie thought.

  “Still,” Jacob sighed, “that’s no reason to take it out on you. L
et me go talk to her.”

  “Nee, Daed,” Sadie said as she grabbed his arm and led him toward the kitchen. She knew that if her father spoke to Rachel, it would unleash even more bitterness. “I don’t think that’s a right gut idea. If she’s hurting inside, she needs time to heal. I didn’t mind washing the sheets again. Honest.”

  But Jacob wasn’t easily convinced. “You’re a truly righteous woman, Sadie. And my heart warms that you’re protecting her.” He stopped talking and lifted his eyes upward as if reflecting upon something. “But, just as I can’t have her doubting God’s will like that, I won’t tolerate my dochder being browbeaten. It ain’t right and I can’t condone it under my own roof.”

  “Daed, I don’t think—”

  But he didn’t listen to her. Instead, without saying another word, he sat down at the kitchen table.

  Sadie made her way to the stove and grabbed for an oven mitt so she could check on the stew. When she opened the oven door, the aroma of roasted vegetables and savory chicken filled the kitchen.

  “Rachel,” her father called out, and Sadie could feel the rapid beating of her heart. When there was no response, her father pushed back his chair and stood. “I best check on her, then,” he stated as he left the room to seek Rachel out.

  A few moments later, there were muffled sounds coming from the other room. While she couldn’t hear the words that were spoken, she could tell by the sound of her father’s voice that he was, indeed, chastising Rachel.

  Cringing, Sadie shut her eyes and said a quick prayer. She didn’t want her stepmother to suffer further, but she also didn’t want to be subjected to any more of Rachel’s misdirected wrath. Her stepmother was already making her life more difficult. How would she respond to Jacob’s reprimanding her?

  It wasn’t long before Jacob and Rachel entered the kitchen together. Rachel’s eyes appeared red and her cheeks were puffy. Had she been crying again?

  Jacob stood behind Rachel, his arms crossed over his chest and a stern expression on his face.

  Rachel, however, looked dull and emotionless as she faced Sadie. “Your daed says I’ve been unfair to you,” Rachel said, her voice flat and unfeeling. “If that is so, then I apologize.”

  Dipping her head, Sadie stared at the linoleum floor. A silence ensued, and she realized that both her father and stepmother were awaiting her response. She swallowed hard and sought the right words.

  “Rachel, I know you’ve been feeling poorly.” Sadie bit her lower lip. Her compassion for Rachel was genuine, even though she had heard the hollowness in the woman’s apology. “I truly understand and pray for you to find comfort.”

  Rachel made a noise, barely audible, that made Sadie glance up. When her eyes met Rachel’s, she noticed a darkness that cast a shadow of doubt in her mind. For the only word Sadie could find to describe what she saw was “loathing.” It was all too clear now. Her stepmother loathed her. And, for the life of her, Sadie could not understand why.

  Jacob, however, had not witnessed this. Upon hearing his wife profess her regret, he had uncrossed his arms, clearly pleased with the exchange between the two women, and missed the ominous look of disdain in Rachel’s eyes.

  “Now, let there be no more strife under my roof. There’s enough of that in the world. Besides, the Bible is quite clear about the root of strife. For it is written, ‘What is causing the quarrels and fights among you? Don’t they come from the evil desires at war within you?’” He waited until Rachel turned around and met his stern gaze. “And no more sorrow from you. That only means you are questioning God’s will. Only he decides our fate, not us. It is not our place to dispute or doubt his decisions.”

  Satisfied, Jacob plopped his hat back on his head, and after glancing at Sadie, he passed Rachel and walked across the room to the back door, then headed toward the barn to finish his chores before supper.

  Sadie stared after him. She realized that she had never heard him speak so harshly to Rachel, or anyone for that matter. Then again, no one had ever given him reason to rebuke them.

  Yet he spoke true wisdom, demonstrating understanding of both Scripture and the Ordnung. The man was the head of the household and it was his word that led the family. And, as head of the Whitaker household, Jacob had made his point clear in his rebuke to Rachel: he would not tolerate strife between his wife and daughter.

  When Sadie turned to face Rachel, the wisdom of her father’s words seemed to vanish into thin air. Rather than act humbled and chastised, her stepmother glared at her with a cold, hard stare that spoke more than words ever possibly could.

  Sadie shuddered, an eerie feeling washing over her. She couldn’t help but wonder what evil desires resided in her stepmother’s heart. What driving force was at the root of her anger? If anything, it was evident to Sadie that Jacob’s reproach had angered Rachel even more. And it was clear to Sadie that, regardless of her apology, Rachel had only spoken because Jacob had demanded it, not because she meant it. She might have honored her husband’s wishes, but it was all too obvious that she still harbored ill feelings toward Sadie.

  “I . . . I best go finish the rest of my chores,” Sadie mumbled, lowering her gaze, then stepped to the side of Rachel to pass. But she knew that Rachel’s eyes remained upon her as she grabbed the bucket and began scouring the floor. She would do what she could to avoid her stepmother as much as possible. Surely this, too, would pass once Rachel grasped the truth of Jacob’s words. In the meantime, Sadie took no comfort from the empty apology or the hateful expression that crossed her stepmother’s face as she started to grind the cornmeal and crack the eggs for the dumplings.

  Chapter Five

  On Sunday, nothing could have stunned Sadie more than hearing the bishop announce that her friend Belle was to marry Adam Hershberger, the Amish recluse who lived on the outskirts of town. And, even more surprising, the wedding was to take place in just under twelve days. Not only was it rare to have such a quick ceremony but it wasn’t even wedding season.

  When the bishop made the announcement after the three-hour worship service, a soft murmuring rippled throughout the congregation. Like many of the others, Sadie turned to look at Belle, trying to read her expression. But when they made eye contact, there was little emotion on her friend’s face. Belle sat with her back rigid and her hands folded in her lap. She lowered her eyes and began to pray with the others.

  Sadie wanted to go to her friend as soon as the service had ended and the church members were beginning to disperse. But everyone seemed to be staring in the young woman’s direction. As if to avoid the curious looks, Belle immediately busied herself among the other women who were setting out the common meal.

  Deciding she would talk with Belle later, when they could have more privacy, Sadie wandered across the room to where her other dear friend, Ella, was standing.

  “Can you believe it?” Ella whispered with her blue eyes wide and her expression full of distress. “Belle and Adam?”

  Not only couldn’t Sadie believe it, she also didn’t understand it. If there was one person Sadie would never have guessed Belle would marry, it was Adam Hershberger. “She hardly knows Adam!” Sadie muttered in a low voice.

  Ella leaned her head in closer. “Does anyone?”

  It was true. No one knew Adam Hershberger. He rarely left his farm, let alone came to worship. His disfigured face made him the subject of malicious stories that were whispered behind covered lips.

  Sadie didn’t blame him for not worshipping with the rest of the community. Not with the idle gossip that circulated about his appearance. Sadie remembered hearing about the fire that had disfigured Adam when he was but a small boy.

  Besides, he lived on the far outskirts of town, toward Liberty Falls. From what Sadie heard from other people in Echo Creek, he rarely came to town except to buy supplies a few times a year.

  And now he was to marry Belle?

  Sadie looked over to where Belle was now standing with her older sisters. Going by the animated expressions
on their faces, Sadie guessed that Verna and Susie were giving Belle an earful. It seemed that Ella and Sadie weren’t the only ones blindsided by the bishop’s announcement.

  As soon as they could, Sadie and Ella made their way to Belle’s side.

  “What on earth, Belle?” Ella said softly. “Adam?”

  “I . . . I had to do it,” Belle whispered back. Her pale face and frightened eyes revealed her true feelings. It was plain to see that she did not favor this marriage any more than her friends did. “If I marry Adam, he won’t make my family leave the farm. And after there’s a son . . .”

  Sadie bit her lower lip and widened her eyes. She had forgotten that Adam had bought Belle’s father’s farm when the family had almost lost it to the bank. “A son?” she asked, wondering what that had to do with anything.

  Belle looked forlorn and averted her eyes. Sadie could read the underlying sadness in them and it broke her heart.

  “If I bear him a son he will give the farm back to my daed,” Belle explained. “Otherwise, my family will be homeless. And I can’t have that on my conscience. Not if there’s something I can do to prevent it.”

  Sadie knew that Belle’s family was poor and struggled to make ends meet. She had heard that her friend’s family might have to move if they didn’t come up with payment soon. But marrying Adam Hershberger to save the family farm was a sacrifice far beyond any daughter’s duty.

  “Oh help!” Nervously Ella scanned the room. “My maem will have quite a lot to say about this turn of events. I’ll never hear the end of it, I’m sure and certain.”

  “Perhaps I should leave,” Belle said.

  “Let’s go walk a spell,” Sadie offered. There were too many people standing around, whispering and staring at Belle. Sadie felt compassion for her friend, who looked terribly uncomfortable under their pointed scrutiny. There was no sense in adding to the town’s weekly dose of gossip. Putting her hand on Belle’s arm, she gently guided her toward the door. “Fresh air might do us all some good.”

 

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