by Laura Hilton
“What’s for breakfast? I’m not going to be much help, but I can carry the jams and such to the table.”
“One of the women brought by a breakfast casserole. I just need to put it in the oven to warm.” She should have gotten it warming before she went upstairs.
“Do you have time? Before leaving for school, I mean? Or did they let you go, since you’re married now?”
Annie nodded, wincing. “They let me go. Ruth King is the new teacher.”
Cathy shook her head. “That won’t last long.”
“Well, be that as it may, she is. And we probably won’t need to worry about cooking much. Aaron says that the bishop arranged for meals to be brought in for a while, along with women to kum help with the laundry and basic cleaning…whatever we can’t handle. It’ll all get done. We might just have to work together to lift a heavy casserole dish. With one good arm each, we should be able to manage.”
***
After breakfast, Joshua followed Isaac out to the fields where the beehives were kept. At least Joshua felt well enough to work. His knees hurt worse than his hands, but he was functioning. The pain pill he’d taken before breakfast kept his headache under control.
There was one last task to do before they’d leave them alone for the winter, according to Isaac: inoculating the bees, whatever that meant. He pictured Isaac trying to capture individual bees and give them shots.
He soon found out that Isaac had added the medicine to some sugar water he’d prepared for the bees to feed on until they hunkered down for the winter. The purpose was to prevent any of a number of diseases that could wipe out an entire hive. Isaac stressed that now was the time to treat the bees because the honey that the humans would consume had already been extracted.
Bees interested him more than he’d ever imagined possible. They were fascinating to watch and learn about. But he had a long way to go before he could claim to be even remotely comfortable working with them.
If nothing else, Missouri had been a learning experience. An exercise in frustration, maybe, but a learning experience overall. He sighed as he remembered Luke’s many threats, getting kicked out of that haus, Cathy’s pranks, the buggy accident, and the forced marriage. Funny—he’d thought Missouri would be so much simpler. At least Annie had made the frustrations worthwhile.
They were finishing the last hive when the musical tones of Joshua’s cell phone ringtone came blaring out of his pocket. He and Isaac both jumped. Then, he grabbed the phone and glanced at it. “I should get this. It’s my daed.” Walking away from Isaac, he pressed the button to answer the call and raised the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Joshua. I got the bus tickets. Your mamm and I will be arriving in Springfield on Thursday morgen at ten. Can you arrange a ride from there?”
“Jah. I can do that.”
“Isaac Beiler, he’ll have room for us, ain’t so?”
“Jah. There’s an extra bedroom.” Annie’s old one. His blood heated, and he glanced toward the haus, wondering what she was doing now. He really needed to find some way to tell her about his—their—upcoming return to Pennsylvania, before his parents arrived and mentioned it. He had only a couple of days to somehow find the words to tell her.
He hoped she wouldn’t be too upset when she learned that marrying him meant she’d be leaving not only her position at the school, but her family and community, as well.
***
After lunch, Annie went outside to take down the laundry. The temperature was cooler, maybe in the low 60s, but breezy, so the clothes had dried quickly. The sky was taking on a rainy cast, but, not having heard a weather forecast, nor having seen an almanac, she wasn’t sure what might be coming in. She hoped it was rain, and not a late, out-of-season tornado. Rather awkwardly, thanks to her wrist, she folded the dry clothes, dropped them into the basket, and then carried it inside, balanced against her waist with her good arm.
As she put the clothes away, she lingered over Joshua’s, making sure they were folded neatly in the drawers where they belonged. When that task was complete, she didn’t know what to do with herself. Mamm had the mending and sewing under control, for now, though Annie still planned to make a trip to Seymour as soon as she could to buy material for some new dresses.
She went to her old bedroom and retrieved the historical romance she’d borrowed from the library but hadn’t had time to read. Then, she curled up on the bed, but only for a few seconds. This was no longer her room. She shouldn’t be here.
She couldn’t quite bring herself to go into the room she shared with Joshua to read, so she tiptoed out of the haus and scampered to her special place in the woods. No one would find her there. And, hopefully, the rain would hold off until later.
She didn’t know how long she’d read—she’d gotten more than one hundred pages into the book, at least—when she heard rustling in the bushes. She looked up. Joshua emerged from the undergrowth, carrying a thermos and two mugs.
“Break time.” He climbed onto the boulder, grinning at her. “I brought us some tea, and….” He fished into his pocket and brought out something encased in plastic wrap. “Cookies.”
“How did you find me?”
“I went looking for you. You weren’t in the haus, and all the horses are home except Aaron’s. I figured you were either here or at Becky’s.” He lowered himself beside her, then looked at her. “You don’t mind that I came, do you? I know this is your alone spot.”
“I don’t mind.” She scooted closer to him and reached for the thermos. “You made the tea?”
“Jah. Cathy had put on water to heat, so I used that and then refilled the teakettle.” He held the mugs while she poured the tea into them. “Cathy apologized to me just a few minutes ago. She said she heard that I saved David’s life and that she appreciated it. That she hopes we can be friends. Especially since we’re family now.”
“That’s gut.” Annie screwed the thermos lid back on and then reached for the cookies. “Danki for thinking of this.” Strangely, she felt nervous now in his presence, away from their bedroom. She hoped she wouldn’t start babbling.
He shrugged. “Kind of like a picnic, jah? And we’re newlyweds. Nein place I would rather be than with you.” He smiled, slowly but broadly, and his gaze heated. He leaned closer to her.
Flustered, she took a mug from him, then took a sip from it. “Peach?”
“Jah.”
“Joshua? Annie?” Daed’s voice drifted through the trees. “Bishop Sol’s here. He wants a word.”
Chapter 25
Reluctantly, Joshua rose to his feet. One couldn’t ignore the bishop’s summons, but he sure wanted to. He reached out a hand to help Annie up, then grabbed his mug and the thermos. She picked up the cookies, still wrapped, and dropped them into her apron pocket. Then, taking up her mug and her book, she surveyed the sky. “It looks like rain.”
“Jah.” Joshua felt a raindrop on his skin. Probably good they’d been interrupted. Although he could think of more pleasant interruptions than visits from the bishop. He held several branches out of the way so that Annie could climb through. Then, they crossed the lawn as light rain dotted their skin with moisture.
Isaac and Bishop Sol waited in the kitchen, both of them seated at the table, sipping from steaming mugs. Joshua smelled koffee; Isaac must have made some for the bishop. The plate of cookies in the middle of the table had been replenished since he had packed a few for his “picnic” with Annie.
Joshua placed his mug and the thermos on the table and sat down, while Annie started to carry her tea and the book into the living room. She paused to smile at Bishop Sol. “Nice of you to kum by. Let me know if you need anything.”
“This concerns you,” the bishop said. “You may stay.”
Joshua sucked in a surprised breath. He hadn’t expected that. And, from the apprehensive glance Annie sent him, she hadn’t, either. He looked at Isaac and saw his eyes widen.
Annie set her book and her mug on the kitchen counte
r and came over to the table, feet dragging. She sat down between Joshua and Isaac, folded her hands in her lap, and lowered her eyes, the picture of demure submission. The way she’d looked at the school board meeting while everyone was shouting accusations at her and demanding she defend herself and her decisions.
Joshua felt sick to his stomach. He hoped the bishop wouldn’t say anything that would hurt her more. Hurt them. Or have another ruling that would throw their world into additional turmoil.
He would admit it—he was glad they’d been forced to get married. It had given him an unexpected excuse to kiss Annie—and more. And she’d said she loved him. He smiled, but it faded quickly. What was the bishop mad about now? Maybe Ruth King, the new schoolteacher, was floundering, and the bishop wanted Annie to help her adjust. Or, what if Luke had accused him of something he hadn’t done?
He couldn’t help but wish he could reach for Annie’s hand and support her physically while the bishop brought down whatever judgment he was about to pronounce. And he thought Isaac felt the same inclination, judging by the way he slid his chair a bit closer to Annie’s.
Bishop Sol was probably about to ask for a public confession of whatever sin they’d committed to make marriage necessary, but it hadn’t been sinful. Jah, Annie had been on his hospital bed, but she’d been sitting up, not lying down. And her kiss hadn’t been heated or passionate. It’d been tentative. Uncertain. With an undercurrent of fear. And just the tiniest hint of hope.
Of course, the potential for more had been there. Maybe that was the problem.
Still, Joshua could name a dozen couples who’d had closer encounters than Annie and he, at that point. And the bishop must have been aware of at least some of them.
Joshua forced himself to lean back in his chair, to try to relax, and to prepare himself mentally for confessing to kissing a girl he hadn’t been courting.
***
Annie hadn’t expected to be asked to stay at the meeting. Especially since, now, Daed and the bishop sat there, calmly conversing about the weather, the crops, the bees, and the machine shop, as if this were a purely social visit. She knew it wasn’t. Otherwise, the bishop wouldn’t have asked her to stay.
Wouldn’t have forced her to sit there and listen to things that didn’t concern her.
Why had they descended into small talk instead of getting on with it? Maybe what the bishop had to say was really that bad, and he felt he needed to soften it up with casual fluff first. She glanced over at Joshua to see his reaction. He reached for a cookie, met her eyes, and gave a slight shrug.
When Bishop Sol had asked her to stay, and she’d sat down, Daed had scooted closer to her. He must be concerned about what was going to be addressed, too. So, why was he indulging the bishop with idle chitchat?
That the bishop had asked her to stay could mean only one thing: he was about to confront her about her transgressions and demand that she confess and seek forgiveness. May as well get it over with. Then, she could escape and finish her book before it was due back to the library. She sucked in a breath and, instead of waiting for a break in the conversation, blurted out, “I need to confess.”
All three men turned to look at her, their faces matching expressions of shock.
Okay, so maybe that approach had been wrong. She should have waited, abided her stomach’s churning, until the bishop decided to address her.
Yet Bishop Sol’s eyes were filled with compassion. She hadn’t expected that. It about knocked her for a roll. “Go ahead.”
She took another deep breath before beginning. “I went to Springfield with some Englischers, and I tried on Englisch clothes. And I went to the battlefield, and then to the Bass Pro Shop, but all I did there was order lunch. And some chai.” She wouldn’t mention Joshua’s part in this. That would be between him and the Lord.
Blinking was Daed’s only reaction. But then, he’d been aware of most of those details. Except maybe the clothing part. Joshua remained quiet.
“I was uncomfortable in the clothing, so I changed out of it right away.” She studied her fingernails.
Bishop Sol nodded. “I expect you would have been.” He lifted his koffee cup to his mouth and took a sip. Then, he downed the rest of the liquid in one long gulp and set the mug down. “You always did love history. Goes to reason you’d want to visit a historical site. I’d figured you’d be an excellent teacher due to that trait. Probably the best teacher we’ve ever had. You didn’t limit the scholars’ education to Amish history; you taught them American history, the history of language, the history of writing, the history of mathematics…. I can’t imagine we’ll ever have another like you.” He sighed. “I didn’t want to let you go, and I even disliked having my granddaughter assigned to the position. She isn’t the best choice. But she is only temporary. Hopefully, we’ll have a new teacher in the spring. If not, maybe by next fall, if the Lord wills.” He fell silent again, running his index finger up and down the handle of his cup.
Annie sat in stunned silence. She couldn’t believe her ears. Surely, he was about to bring down his judgment.
But after a long, uncomfortable moment, he turned back to Joshua and started discussing horses. Should she offer him a refill? Probably. She stood, picked up the bishop’s mug, filled it with koffee, and set it back down in front of him. Then, she settled in her seat again, waiting.
It wasn’t long before Annie started to fidget. She wished he’d get to the point of his visit. No way had he interrupted their picnic and asked for a word with the sole purpose of sitting around the kitchen, talking about normal things. And, on the slight chance that his visit had no purpose, there wasn’t any reason Annie should have been there with the men.
She glanced at Joshua. He met her eyes for a moment, then turned his attention back to his tea and the conversation at hand. If only she knew him well enough to understand anything he might have tried to communicate nonverbally.
Now, the bishop was questioning Joshua about his intentions to purchase a horse and buggy of his own. Why did Joshua’s responses sound so noncommittal? It was as if he were beating around the bush instead of giving a straight answer. “Aaron said he’d look around” was just one example of his vagueness.
Annie furrowed her brow and looked at the bishop, but he had apparently accepted Joshua’s answer, for he turned to Daed and asked about his latest honey harvest. Would this mundane discussion drag on forever? Annie wondered if she shouldn’t get up and go check on Mamm, though she probably was napping, or see where Cathy had disappeared to. But she might have gone to visit a friend. Or to work. Could she still work as a cashier with a broken arm?
Finally, the topic of honey apparently exhausted, Bishop Sol turned back to Joshua and her. Studied them. And drew in a deep breath. “I’m not in the habit of explaining my decisions. And I’m not entirely comfortable doing it now, but I feel I must.” He inhaled deeply once more and glanced at her daed. She looked that way, too. Daed was tugging at his beard. He must be just as nervous. “I had a gut reason for demanding that you two get married, and I must confess that what I witnessed in the hospital room had nothing to do with it. Well, next to nothing. The truth is that I witnessed something similar in my early years as a bishop, and I let it pass. It turned out the couple was actually expecting.” He picked up his mug, studied it, then set it down and reached for the sugar bowl. “But, like I said, that is not the whole reason.”
***
Joshua felt his stomach roil as the bishop’s gaze settled on him. Had he somehow found out his secrets? Decided to force him to marry a woman whose family clearly needed her close by, so that he wouldn’t be allowed to go home to Pennsylvania?
He should have told Annie of his plans right away. Instead, he’d put off telling the truth in favor of more pleasurable things—things that might not have happened, had she known his intentions.
And now, he faced a deadline. His parents were probably on the bus at this very minute, headed toward Missouri. Even if the bishop didn’t br
ing it up, his parents would be sure to do so.
He clenched his fists under the table, determined to focus on the present. He would not act guilty. He would pretend he didn’t have the slightest idea what was going on inside the bishop’s head. After all, he wasn’t a mind reader.
Joshua leaned forward a bit as the bishop picked up his mug again. It seemed that this man of God was a bit nervous, too.
“I heard some very disturbing news on Saturday nacht. My frau and I had decided to go down to the pond and look at the stars. Admire God’s handiwork. Great way to grow close to the Lord and to spend time with my frau. But we weren’t alone. There were some buwe on the other side of the pond, and I don’t think they ever saw us. They were drinking, probably drunk, and talking loudly. I knew most of them, and they were in their rumschpringe. There isn’t much I can do about it, other than make a few visits around to their homes.” Bishop Sol glanced at Isaac, then set the koffee mug down once more and folded his hands on the table.