by Sarah Price
“As I was saying,” John Rabor continued, returning his attention to Jacob, “the increased price of hay more than makes up for the decreased price in milk. You should consider switching next spring and grow more hay while culling your herd.”
John’s words made Sadie cringe. Cull the herd? Her father only sent his cows to slaughter when they were too old for breeding. He would never send his herd off for slaughter.
But her father appeared to be listening intently to John Rabor’s suggestion. He tugged at his beard and nodded. “You make a right gut point, John. Given the times, growing hay does make sense. And I don’t have to feed hay or clean up after it. Much more economical, ja?”
John Rabor made a noise that, if Sadie didn’t know better, might have been an attempt at laughing.
Horrified that her father had agreed with John’s alarming suggestion, Sadie leaned forward. “Daed,” Sadie said in a low voice, “you aren’t seriously considering that, are you?”
Jacob ran his hands through his hair, causing the front to stand up just a bit. “There’s sense to what John says, Sadie.”
John scoffed. “Does your dochder run your business, Jacob?” He chortled in an unkind way.
Sadie whispered, “You promised you’d never send the cows to slaughter. Not unless it was for our personal need for food at home.”
Her father ignored her comment.
Carrying a tray with mugs of hot coffee on it, Rachel walked in between Sadie and the two men. Clearly she had been eavesdropping. “Oh, Sadie, what do you know of such things? Silly girl.” She shook her head as if what Sadie had just said was the most ridiculous thing ever. “Times are changing.” Rachel looked at her husband. “Isn’t that so, Jacob?”
“Ja, they are.” Despite his former promises to live close to the land and not slaughter his cows, Jacob now seemed resigned to the fact that going against his word was a real possibility. “Corporate farming, especially in the dairy industry, sure does seem to make it next to impossible for small dairy farmers to survive. People no longer care about having healthy milk; they just buy cheap milk from those large farms where cows don’t free-graze and are fed hormones. Might be time to rethink some things around here.”
Sadie couldn’t believe her father had said those words. How many times had he told her that having enough was more than plenty? Only the Englischers continually wanted more and more, their insatiable greed causing them to work away from their families and homes.
“We live just fine, Daed,” Sadie said, bewildered by this conversation. “You always say so.”
John made a face and scowled at her. “Such opinions for a young woman with little experience of the real world,” he commented unkindly. His words belittled her as if she knew nothing about farming, even though she had grown up on a farm.
Inwardly, Sadie rolled her eyes. However, she knew better than to actually do that. “Other Amish folks need milk just as much as they need hay,” she said sharply, unwilling to let a man like John Rabor denigrate her. “Perhaps we should market our dairy products differently. Perhaps we should promote the care given to the dairy cows who graze in pastures instead of living unhappy lives chained up in large, dirty barns as they do with those big Englische farms. We could command a higher price for our products rather than trying to compete with the corporate dairy farms.”
The expression on her father’s face shifted, changing from indifference to curiosity. For a moment, she thought that her father might comment on her suggestion, praising her for such a creative idea.
But John Rabor ruined the moment. He made a face of mockery, staring at Sadie as if she were crazed. “Whoever heard of raising dairy prices when we can hardly sell milk for lower ones?” He shook his head. “Who has been filling your head with such nonsense, Sadie?” He looked at Jacob. “And this is why womenfolk belong in the haus and must leave the important farmwork to us men.”
Stunned that her father didn’t jump to her defense, she pressed her lips together and leaned back in the rocking chair. She stopped listening to their conversation, which really was one-sided, with John talking and her father merely nodding his head.
Oh, how she detested that John Rabor! And while she knew that she’d have to pray forgiveness later that evening for thinking horrible things about John, she knew that he was far too vain to even consider doing the same for having actually spoken his horrible ideas.
Hurt and bored, Sadie stared out the window. How she wished that it wasn’t a Sunday so she could work on a quilt while she sat there during John Rabor’s visit. As no one was permitted to work on Sundays, unless it was essential work like caring for livestock or tending to the family, the bishop would surely hear if she took a needle and thread to her latest quilting project. So, instead, Sadie was forced to sit there, listening to John Rabor’s bluster about the benefits of giving up dairy farming, unable to politely leave or to make productive use of her time.
Finally, almost thirty minutes later, to Sadie’s relief, she saw that John was preparing to leave. She said a silent prayer of thanks to God for the short visit. Still, she felt frustrated that she had been forced to sit there in the first place.
“Sadie,” John said, turning to speak directly to her for the first time since she had come downstairs. He peered at her with cold, steely eyes. “I need to cut wood for the winter this week. Not only for myself, but also for my neighbors. Would you . . .”
Sadie cringed, for she knew what was coming. Another request for help.
“. . . help with the kinner again?”
Before she could speak, Rachel replied, “Of course she will.” Rachel turned toward her, a sweet smile plastered to her face. “Right, Sadie?”
Sadie’s heart pounded and she felt sweat form on the back of her neck as she realized that all three pairs of eyes were upon her.
I can’t. I can’t. I simply can’t. While the words screamed inside her head, she couldn’t form them on her tongue. She couldn’t imagine having to spend any more time in the presence of John Rabor or his kinner. Nothing would make Sadie feel more miserable. And yet she could tell that she was expected to acquiesce and agree to do just that.
Swallowing, Sadie tried to think of the most graceful way to escape such a fate.
“I . . .”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed.
“I . . . I really cannot.”
“Sadie!” Rachel glared at her, appalled at her response. “The good Lord tells us to help our neighbors.”
Sadie pressed her lips together. “Nee, he said to love one another as he loved us.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?” Rachel snapped.
“Nee, it’s not. Besides, even if it were, haven’t I already helped enough?”
Rachel shut her eyes and took a deep breath, clearly displeased with Sadie’s response.
Sadie lifted her chin. “Mayhaps you could watch his kinner and I’ll stay here to tend the haus.”
Rachel gasped and John stood up, the abruptness of his movement causing him to knock over his almost empty coffee mug. “Such insolence!” He faced Rachel. “And I thought you said—”
Just as quickly, Rachel jumped to her feet. “Let me walk you to the door,” she said, interrupting him before he could finish his sentence. She placed her hand on his arm and started guiding him away from the sitting area. As they walked away, Sadie thought she heard Rachel whisper, “Let me talk to her. I’m sure she’ll come to her senses.”
John grunted in response.
They disappeared outside, leaving Sadie to sit there, wondering what mischief Rachel was up to. Why would Rachel be championing John Rabor of all people? She barely knew the man. She wondered if Rachel had been behind John’s visit, and she suspected the answer was yes.
Sadie turned toward her father, eager to ask if he knew why, exactly, John had come visiting, but he had already returned his attention to the Bible. There was no sense in disturbing him, for the matter clearly was of little concern or interest to her father.
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Frustrated, Sadie turned her attention toward the window. She knew that her stepmother was scheming something. Whatever it was, Sadie would have to keep up her guard. There was something about the new Rachel she could not trust.
Chapter Sixteen
On Thursday, Sadie managed to gain permission from Rachel to go into town to pick up a few things at the store. The fact that she even needed permission now was frustrating to Sadie. She was eighteen—not a child, but a responsible adult with a good reputation.
For some odd reason, Rachel had merely waved her hand dismissively at her, a silent granting of her consent.
“You can stop at the store and fetch me some flour, sugar, and yeast,” Rachel added coldly.
Eager to escape Rachel’s wrath, Sadie didn’t hesitate to agree.
Sadie hadn’t been permitted to leave the house all week and, therefore, hadn’t seen Frederick since the youth picnic the previous Saturday. She hoped to run into Anna Rose so she could inquire about his whereabouts.
But the town appeared empty.
Sadie contemplated walking to Anna Rose’s house. However, she felt strange just dropping by. While she was friendly with Anna Rose, they weren’t close enough for Sadie to visit her at her parents’ home.
So, instead, Sadie walked through the center of town and headed to Troyers’ General Store. If Ella was working, she, too, might have heard something about Frederick, or even seen him at the store.
The bell over the door jingled and Linda Troyer greeted Sadie when she walked inside.
“Sadie Whitaker!” Linda smiled at her. “How are you doing today?”
“Right as rain,” Sadie replied cheerfully. She glanced around the store. “I was wondering if Ella’s working today.”
Linda’s smile faded, and she pursed her lips. “She’s doing inventory in the back. I’ll fetch her, but don’t keep her long, Sadie. She has much work to finish.” Without waiting for a response, Linda turned on her heel and disappeared into the back stockroom.
Sadie wandered down an aisle, perusing the many different items on the shelves. Kerosene lanterns, pots, pans, even glasses. Everything a person could need for their home, as well as a section of dry goods in the back.
She wandered over to the fabric section and looked through some of the remnants. Oh, how she would have loved to purchase some, especially the dark blue with white flowers. But she knew that would be wasteful, since she hadn’t finished the quilt that she was currently making.
“There you are!” Ella smiled at her as she hurried around the corner. “I’ve only a few minutes.” She glanced over her shoulder as if making certain that her stepmother wasn’t standing there. “I haven’t seen you all week.”
Sadie made a face. “Rachel’s been angry with me and I’ve had to pick up extra chores to appease her.”
Ella sighed. “Sounds familiar.”
It was one thing that Ella and Sadie had in common: stepmothers. However, Linda had never treated Ella well, while Rachel had at least pretended to do so.
“Things haven’t been going so well with her,” Sadie started. “I need to talk to someone, Ella. But you know I don’t like to gossip—”
“I know that. Whatever you tell me won’t go any further,” Ella promised, a solemn expression on her face.
Sadie counted on that. Ella had always proven to be a true friend in the worst of times. “Rachel’s been awfully hard on me these past few weeks. Ever since she found out that she’s”—Sadie bit her lower lip, hesitating before she confided the rest—“not with child again.”
“Oh help.”
Sadie sighed. “When she first married Daed, she was so kind and friendly toward me. Everyone seemed so pleased with their marriage, although some commented about her being so much younger than he.”
“And quite pretty,” Ella added. “She could’ve married anyone.”
That was true, too. In fact, Sadie often wondered about that. Even though she was no longer in her twenties, Rachel could have married any widower in Echo Creek, or even Liberty Falls. But she had married Jacob Whitaker. From what Sadie knew, their courtship had been brief, and several people had whispered that their introduction had been arranged by the bishop.
“Ja, she could have married anyone, but she chose my daed.” Sadie scratched the back of her neck. “Now, she’s behaving so strange. She was angry and hostile for a while. Then, since Belle’s wedding, she’s been overly kind. And yet, something is amiss. It’s as if she wants me out of the haus.”
Ella’s blue eyes widened. “Whatever for?”
“I don’t know exactly.” Sadie raised her eyes and stared at Ella. “But she arranged for me to watch John Rabor’s children that one week and tried, again, to get me out there this week.”
“Oh!” Ella shook her head.
“But I refused this time. And she’s been even harder on me ever since.”
Ella sighed. “Mayhaps she’s just upset because she hasn’t had a boppli yet.”
Somehow, Sadie knew that was at the heart of the matter. But she certainly didn’t know why Rachel would be upset with her over her failure to conceive.
“Well, I certainly hope things get better for you,” Ella said at last. She glanced again in Linda’s direction and whispered, “I know what it’s like to have a hard-to-please stepmother.”
As if she had been listening, Linda called out, “Ella! It’s time to get back to work now. You must finish inventory before noon and get home to clean the haus and cook supper!”
Ella gave Sadie a look of despair. “See what I mean?”
Realizing that she hadn’t even inquired about Frederick, Sadie watched as Ella walked away, her shoulders slumped forward. Oh, how her heart wept for Ella. Long ago, Sadie had learned how Linda Troyer overworked her stepdaughter while letting her own two daughters do whatever they pleased. It wasn’t fair, but neither was life.
God’s plan was not always easily identifiable, but Sadie knew that there was a reason for everything, even if one couldn’t quite understand what it was.
After finishing with her shopping, Sadie tucked the sack of items under her arm and headed out of the store.
She took her time walking back to the lane that led to her father’s farm. As she made her way out of town, she heard the sound of schoolchildren playing during recess. Behind her, the gentle clip-clopping of a horse’s hooves made her look over her shoulder.
She smiled when she recognized Frederick’s horse. How fortunate! Moving toward the side of the road, she waited for him to get closer.
“My little songbird,” he said by way of greeting.
“I’m so glad to see you,” she said in a soft voice.
He gestured with his hand. “Climb in and let me take you home.”
“I’ll agree to the first part,” she said as she started to get into the buggy. “But please, Frederick, don’t make haste to the haus.”
He tilted his head and studied her. Then, without asking any questions, he nodded.
Instead of continuing down the road, he turned at the first fork and they rode in the opposite direction from her father’s farm. Sadie stared out the window in silence.
“Everything all right, then?” he asked at last.
She shook her head. “Nee, Frederick, it’s not.”
He waited, as if to see whether she would volunteer information. When she didn’t, he prodded her. “Care to tell me more?”
How could she do that without disparaging her stepmother? Despite her temper and moodiness, Rachel was still her stepmother, and the Bible commanded her to honor both her father and mother.
“At the risk of sounding impertinent,” she began, carefully selecting her words, “I’ve somehow offended my stepmother, and it hasn’t made life very pleasant at home.”
He pursed his lips. “Go on.”
Sadie sighed. “It has to do with John Rabor.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Sadie saw the muscles tense along the side of his jaw.
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nbsp; “He came visiting after worship on Sunday last. He needed more help with his kinner, and when I refused to watch them again, Rachel was not happy with me at all.” Sadie glanced at him, but Frederick continued staring straight ahead. “After the rumors that started circulating last week, I knew I couldn’t agree to help. And I know that God wants us to love our neighbors, but haven’t I already fulfilled that by helping the week before?”
Frederick remained silent and Sadie twisted her hands on her lap. Why wasn’t he saying something?
“Now,” Sadie continued, “Rachel’s behaving strangely. All week she gave me chore after chore, things that were nonsensical, Frederick, as if to punish me for something.”
He lifted his chin and she thought she saw his eye twitch.
“I fear she wants me out of the haus and that it was she, not John, who originally thought to get me to help him.” This time, when Sadie finished speaking, she remained silent. Oh, how she prayed Frederick didn’t find her accusations disrespectful toward her stepmother.
The horse and buggy approached another crossroad. Frederick pulled the horse to a stop, and for a moment, Sadie thought he was wondering which way to turn. But she soon realized that he wasn’t lost, merely thinking.
He guided the horse to continue straight down the road, rather than turn toward Sadie’s house.
“There’s a nice stream over here,” he said. “Just down the road a spell. Let’s go there and walk a bit, ja?”
“That sounds wunderbarr.” She couldn’t think of anything she would enjoy more than walking along a stream with Frederick.
The leaves were beginning to turn and the trees that lined the stream were reflected in the water. After tying the horse to a tree, Frederick helped Sadie get out of the buggy. He held her hand for just a minute longer than he should have, but Sadie found that she didn’t mind.
“There’s a path over here, I believe.”
She walked beside Frederick as they headed toward the narrow dirt path.
“I’m sorry to hear about your stepmother,” Frederick said at last. “Believe it or not, I was actually headed to your haus when I ran into you.”