by Sarah Price
He nodded.
While she had never visited it, she knew that it was a small cluster of Amish farms located south of Echo Creek without a town center. Sometimes the farmers would travel to Echo Creek to purchase supplies or visit extended family. But, from what little she knew about them, they mostly kept to themselves.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen you before,” she said, immediately wishing she had thought before speaking. “I mean at the youth gatherings.”
He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Ja, I don’t normally venture to Echo Creek for those. Too busy on my daed’s farm. We raise cattle for beef sales at Liberty Falls.”
“Oh!” She placed her hand over her heart. “How sad that must be for you when they’re taken to auction.”
Frederick’s expression became solemn. “I admit, that’s my least favorite part of raising cattle. But I know that they had a gut life with us, were treated with kindness, and served a greater purpose than just grazing our pastures.”
That was one way to look at it, she thought. Still, she knew she could never be happy raising cattle for that purpose, knowing that one day they would be sent to slaughter. Why, even though her father raised dairy cows, he was always telling her not to get too attached to the herd for fear her emotions would get the better of her. But Sadie didn’t heed his concerns and even named every cow. All forty-three of them!
As if reading her mind, Frederick sighed. “One day, when I inherit the farm, I intend to do something a bit different.”
Intrigued, Sadie looked at him. “And what’s that?”
He made a funny face and squinted at her, a strange expression crossing his lips. “I’m not sure I should tell you. What if you share my idea with your daed and he steals my future business?”
Abruptly, Sadie stopped walking. “I would never do that!”
Frederick laughed. “I’m teasing you, Sadie.”
For the second time, she felt her cheeks grow warm.
“Anyway, my idea is to invest in educational farming.”
Sadie caught her breath. “I don’t know what that is, but it sure sounds impressive.”
Once again, he laughed at her reaction. “It’s something new. A lot of the Englischers are doing it. Having a farm where young people can visit and learn about the daily life of a farmer.” As they approached the edge of the woods, he made a broad, sweeping gesture. “There’s so much land here, Sadie. And, from what I hear, many of the young people from Ohio and Pennsylvania can’t afford to buy land in their area. Our little Amish community could grow and welcome so many new families. We could be as big as Echo Creek.” He paused. “With a town center and lots of farms without any influence from outsiders.”
Sadie knew he was talking about the Englische. “That sounds heavenly.”
“Ja, indeed. My daed has five hundred acres. It’s a large parcel of land. We could help other young Amish men learn how to farm out here and do profit sharing, raising crops and focusing on dairy, instead of beef. And then those men could save their money and one day buy their own farms. There’s enough land for everyone here. But they need a helping hand to get started.”
“Oh, that’s a right gut idea, Frederick.”
He nodded, a look of appreciation on his face. “Danke, Sadie. I think so, too.” He leaned over and nudged her with his arm. “It will be a great help to others, and no cattle will ever be sold to market for slaughter, at least not from my land.”
Once they approached the road that led to her house, Sadie pointed toward the mailbox at the end of her father’s driveway. “That’s our farm.”
He nodded and continued walking beside her. “You weren’t kidding about living next to the forest,” he said as his eyes scanned the large pasture. “I take it those are your dairy cows, then?”
“Ja, dairy. And Daed plants corn in the back fields.”
“A true farmer’s dochder,” he quipped.
At the mailbox, Sadie paused, then lifted the flap and peeked inside to see if the postman had delivered anything. When she found the box empty, she wasn’t surprised, for it was a rare occasion that they received mail. She knew she was stalling for time, wanting to spend a few more minutes in Frederick’s company. She had enjoyed her unexpected visit with this stranger, and she didn’t know how to tell him without seeming too forward. She bit her lower lip and took a small breath. “Well, danke, Frederick, for escorting me to my farm.”
He gave her a little bow and she smiled. “My pleasure, little songbird. Now that I’ve seen you safely home, I shall continue on my way.”
Sadie started down the driveway, stopping just once to look over her shoulder. It was only then that she realized she hadn’t learned Frederick’s last name and he didn’t know hers. Such a shame, she thought, that he never attends youth gatherings. She would have liked to get to know him better.
Chapter Three
The next morning, as soon as Sadie stepped into the kitchen, she knew that something was very wrong.
It was already seven o’clock and the coffee hadn’t been brewed yet. Rachel always had the coffee brewing by sunrise and, more often than not, had already taken a nice hot mug out to the barn for Jacob before Sadie had even woken.
But not today.
Instead, Rachel stood at the sink, her hands pressed firmly against the counter as she stared out the window with a blank expression on her face. Rachel was so engrossed in her thoughts, she didn’t appear to notice when Sadie entered the room.
And, when Sadie greeted her, Rachel failed to respond.
“Is everything all right?” Sadie asked as she slowly approached Rachel from behind and placed a hand on her shoulder. Rachel spun around, as if startled, and that’s when Sadie saw tears streaming down her stepmother’s face. “Rachel?”
“I’m not pregnant.” Her voice quivered. “Again.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sadie said softly. She stepped forward and tried to embrace Rachel, but her stepmother pulled away and turned her attention back to the dishes in the sink. “In God’s time, though, it will happen,” Sadie muttered, trying to offer what consolation she could. Yet, in her own mind, she couldn’t help but think, If he wills it. Every night she prayed that her stepmother would be with child, for Sadie knew how desperately Rachel wanted a baby. “Maybe you shouldn’t think so much about it.”
“That’s easy for you to say!” Rachel snapped as she dropped a coffee mug into the sink and stormed away, glaring at Sadie. “Just look at you! So young and pretty. Why, you’ll land a husband in the blink of an eye!”
Sadie’s eyes widened. What on earth had she done to deserve Rachel’s wrath? Oh help, Sadie thought. It seemed each time Rachel’s monthly course came, she fell into a deep depression that lasted for days. And each time it happened, her reaction was worse than the last. Clearly this time Rachel was dealing with her disappointment by lashing out at Sadie.
“You didn’t have to take care of a disabled parent for ten years. You didn’t miss out on courting the young men! Why, I should’ve had ten kinner by now!” she yelled. But then, just as suddenly as her anger had appeared, it disappeared, and Rachel covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed. “I so wanted to please Jacob.”
Sadie suddenly felt guilty, and her hurt was replaced with compassion for the woman standing before her. She stepped forward and pulled Rachel into her arms and comforted her, then said a silent prayer. She wanted nothing more than for God to take care of her stepmother. To ease the pain of her disappointment at not having her own family and to grant her peace of mind in whatever way God felt was righteous and fit.
Sadie was sure that God had a plan for everyone. The Bible said so. It was one of the first things young Amish children learned in their religious schooling. But she just wished she knew what his plan for Rachel was. Three years without one pregnancy would tax any woman’s nerves.
“Let me fetch Daed,” Sadie offered in a soft voice. “He’ll know what to do.”
Qui
ckly, Sadie let go of her stepmother and moved toward the front door, a rush of emotions flooding her. When she stepped outside she felt relieved to be away from Rachel, even though she couldn’t help feeling extreme sorrow over her stepmother’s infertility. If anyone knew how badly Rachel wanted a baby, it was Sadie.
“Daed?” She walked into the barn and tried to find her father among the cows.
When she called out his name a second time, he popped up in the far aisle, his crumpled straw hat smashed onto his head, plastering his hair to his forehead.
“Over here, Sadie.” He gave her a big grin. “If you’ve come to offer your help, I’d gladly accept it today. The cold morning air makes my fingers stiff and uncooperative.”
Sadie hurried toward him, stepping over a pile of cow manure that was in her path. Standing next to the cow her father was milking, she peered over its haunches. Her father was seated on a short stool, already bent over, his fingers deftly pulling on the cow’s udder. Like many of the Amish in Echo Creek, he had never bought into installing an automated milking system. With such a large herd to milk by hand, it was almost impossible for him to get ahead. Why, once he finished with the morning milking, he only had a few hours left in the day to tend to the fields before he had to start all over again with the evening milking. She made a mental note to help him more often, and especially today, after he comforted his wife.
“I’m sorry, Daed, but you best come inside. Rachel’s in a bad state.”
Immediately, he stood up, bumping into his stool and nearly tipping over the milk pail. His eyes appeared tired as he searched her face for assurance. “Bad state?”
Averting her eyes, Sadie gave a slight shake of her head. “She’s upset. You know, about . . .” She let her voice trail off, feeling uncomfortable about sharing such intimate news. “Well, she’s just needing you, Daed.”
He nodded, then slowly began to walk out of the dairy barn, Sadie close on his heels.
Inside, Jacob found his wife crumpled in a ladder-back chair in the living room, sobbing into her hands. Clearly, her emotions had deteriorated in the time it had taken for Sadie to fetch her father.
Seeing her stepmother so broken was almost too much for Sadie to bear, and she had to fight the urge to shed her own tears. Life had not been easy for Rachel, what with tending to her ailing parents and missing out on her rumschpringe. Never being able to attend youth gatherings and singings, or even the friendly volleyball games and picnics that were such a big part of the young people’s social life. If only God would see fit to ease Rachel’s burden and give her a child.
“Rachel?” Jacob knelt beside her and reached for her hands. He gently pulled them away from her face and spoke softly. “Wie gehts?”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her eyes were red and puffy, and there were fine lines around her mouth. For the first time, Sadie noticed that Rachel’s youthful glow had disappeared, and it wasn’t just because she was crying.
“It’s . . . it’s just that . . .” Rachel let out a sob and shook her head. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Rachel,” he said in a soothing voice as he rubbed her arm. “It’s just not your time.”
“It’s never my time.” More tears fell from her eyes. “It’ll never be my time.”
Jacob pulled Rachel to her feet and took her into his arms. For a long while, she cried on his shoulder. Sadie hurried to the hall bath and fetched a tissue, handing it to her father so he could wipe away Rachel’s tears.
“Shh,” he said softly. “It’ll be all right.”
Shaking her head, she whispered, “Nee, it’s not all right. I want nothing more than to give you a child.” She sniffled. “A son.”
His large, calloused hands rubbed her back, and he whispered into her ear, “Now, now, Rachel. It’s not the end of the world. You are older.”
Immediately, Sadie saw her stepmother’s body freeze. Her expression changed from sorrow to something else. Something that Sadie had never seen before. There was a coldness to her stepmother’s face; her mouth tightened and the tiny lines around her lips appeared deeper.
“Older?” she repeated as if the word dripped poison from her tongue.
Jacob hadn’t seen the transformation. “Ja, older. It’s not like you are young like our Sadie is.” He paused, embracing her tighter and kissing the side of her head near where her prayer kapp covered her ear. “Maybe you just can’t have a boppli,” Jacob said as he comforted his wife. “It isn’t meant to be.”
Rachel pulled back from her husband, then swatted his hand away from her shoulder. “Not meant to be?” she asked in an incredulous tone. Her eyes studied his face as if his words were a jest.
“Ja, that’s what I said, Rachel,” he replied. “You aren’t as young as you once were, after all.”
Inwardly, Sadie cringed. With her stepmother’s obsession about her youthful looks, Sadie knew that her father’s words were sure to sting. They were the last thing Rachel wanted to hear. As soon as those words crossed his lips a dark cloud of despair passed over Rachel’s face. Sadie wondered that her father didn’t notice it, too.
“Not as young as I once was,” Rachel repeated in a quiet, even voice that was edged with resentment and disbelief.
“And that’s okay, Rachel,” Jacob offered by way of comfort, starting to realize that Rachel did not take kindly to the reminder of her advancing years.
“Abraham’s wife was eighty years old before she had her first child,” Sadie offered, trying to give Rachel hope.
As soon as the words left her lips, Sadie knew she had made a grave error. Rachel pushed Jacob away and stood abruptly, knocking over the chairs as she did so. “Why, it’s not as if I’m eighty years old!” she yelled out as she took a few steps backward.
Jacob laughed and tried to reach for her, but Rachel backed farther away.
“I’m not even forty!” She glared at Sadie. “From the sounds of it, even you don’t believe God will let me carry my own boppli!”
Immediately, Sadie rushed forward. “Nee, Rachel. That’s not what I meant—”
Rachel held up her hands, keeping Sadie at bay. “Just because you are so young and have young men escorting you home, you think you are better than me?”
Jacob’s shoulders slumped and he appeared wearier than ever. “That’s not what she said, Rachel.”
“It’s what she meant!” Rachel spun around, turning her back on both of them.
In the three years that Rachel had been married to Jacob, Sadie had never seen her stepmother demonstrate such erratic behavior. The way Rachel was raging frightened Sadie even more than her deep sorrow did.
“Truly it’s not,” Sadie begged. “I simply meant that there’s always hope.”
“Go away!” Rachel waved her hand over her shoulder. “Just leave me alone, Sadie. You, too, Jacob.”
But Jacob wasn’t about to leave. Sadie knew that her father cared too much for his wife. He’d never been one to handle tears and heartbreak very well, and his nature was far too kind to simply walk away without trying to help.
“Rachel, please. You cannot believe that my Sadie was trying to insult you.”
Sadie started to back away, suspecting that Rachel’s emotions were far too out of control for any such kind words to quell her sudden temper.
Spinning around, Rachel faced Jacob, her eyes narrowed, and an ugly scowl crossed her face. “You always did favor her over me anyway!”
Sadie’s mouth opened, shocked at the venom that dripped from her stepmother’s tongue. Her eyes fell upon her father and she saw that he, too, appeared taken aback.
“Rachel,” he said in a wavering voice. “She’s my dochder!”
As he spoke that one word, “dochder,” Rachel grimaced. It was as if she found the word distasteful, and her reaction sent a shiver up Sadie’s spine. Who was this angry, hateful woman who sat before them? For a moment, Sadie wondered if they should fetch the doctor, or even the bishop.
“She may be your ‘dochder,
’ Jacob,” Rachel spat out, “but I am your fraa!”
Jacob took a step toward his wife and reached his hand for hers. “Rachel, please—”
But she slapped it away, a gesture that caused Sadie to cover her mouth and gasp out loud. Rachel stretched out her arm and pointed toward the door. “Leave me be! Both of you!”
Sadie’s heart ached for the pained look she saw upon her father’s face. How could Rachel say such horrible things to Jacob? How could she strike him with her hand? It was beyond unchristian, behaving in such a manner to anyone, never mind to her husband. God had appointed the husband as the head of the household. Children obeyed parents. Wives obeyed husbands. And everyone obeyed the church. That was the order of things in the Amish faith.
Rachel, however, had just stepped over that boundary.
With his shoulders hunched even farther and an expression of hurt etched on his face, Jacob avoided Sadie’s eyes as he left the room, pausing at the door as if waiting for something.
Or someone, Sadie realized.
Upon realizing this, she hurried to join her father and followed him outside.
“Daed?”
He lifted his hand over his shoulder and shook it at her. It was a clear indication that he didn’t wish to talk about the scene that had just unfolded before their very eyes.
“But, Daed,” Sadie pleaded, “she’s not well.”
He walked toward the barn, the gravel driveway making a crunching noise under his heavy work boots, and ignored Sadie’s words.
She picked up her pace, trying to keep up with him. “Daed, you can’t just pretend that didn’t happen.”
Deep down, she suspected that was exactly what he wanted to, and would, do. So typical among her people: when unpleasant things happened, a wall of silence went up around them. But Sadie knew she couldn’t ignore what she had just witnessed and always suspected—that her stepmother was jealous of her husband’s relationship with his own daughter.
“Nee, Sadie. We will speak no more about this.”
He passed through the doorway that led into the dairy barn. Sadie started to follow him, but when he stopped walking, his back still facing her, she stopped as well.