A Season for Tending (13 page)

The puppy shook the towel and continued playing.

Samuel left the stall and put two milking stools side by side near Hope. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived.”

Catherine sat and patted the other stool. “You know that’s not a problem, right?”

He took a seat and exhaled before telling her all that had taken place since early that morning.

Her brown eyes flickered with offense for all he’d been through, but the tension in his shoulders began to ease. “Samuel, getting that call from Dorothy had to be awful.”

“To say the least.”

“Where was Leah when she called you?”

“About thirty miles away in Morgansville, but it’s mostly highway between here and there. Once the driver got me to Lancaster, it took me about twenty minutes by horse and carriage to get from my uncle’s place to Rhoda’s. By the time I got there, I was so irate I took it out on the woman who helped Leah. But she didn’t make matters any better, spouting a crazy idea about how our family needs to love Leah and build up her self-esteem or some such nonsense.”

Catherine nodded, looking sympathetic about his day. “Leah’s problem isn’t a need for love. She needs self-control and self-discipline.”

“That Rhoda woman had a very different impression.” She was completely wrong, wasn’t she?

“Morgansville?” Catherine put the whimpering pup in her lap. “They must be under a different bishop than Lancaster, because I don’t remember meeting many Morgansville Amish at regional gatherings.”

“Ya, they’re off by themselves in lots of ways. Town living. A few Amish homes with large lots and small barns. Some houses have shops beside them. It’s a pretty place, now that I think about it.”

Catherine smiled. “You mean now that you can see straight.”

He rubbed the top of Hope’s head. “Leah and Dorothy have told so many lies to cover their tracks I doubt our families will ever know all that’s going on. Unless the girls mature enough to confess. Until then, I’m stuck in the middle, trying to do the best I can.”

“Maybe you’re trying too hard to shield her from your parents’ anger.”

“Leah fears our parents and the church leaders discovering what she’s been up to. I don’t know why. She gives off a vibe that she doesn’t care what others think. But I believe if that one obstacle were removed, if all the adults in her life knew the truth, she’d probably walk away from the church.”

Catherine jolted, eyes wide. “If Leah left, she’d likely take a friend with her, and Arlan would be first in line.”

“I know, and I intend to do what I can to keep that from happening.”

“She’s only seventeen. She can’t legally run off, and she has no skills to support herself, does she?”

Samuel took her soft hand into his. There was so much Catherine couldn’t understand about someone like Leah. “She doesn’t care what’s legal. And she may be lazy, but she’s far from stupid. She could figure out a way to take care of herself. If I’m right about what’s motivating her to stay, we need to keep her secrets and hope she grows up before people find out what she’s up to.”

“I’ll keep her secrets to the bitter end. My parents couldn’t stand losing one of their only two children.”

“All we can do is our best.”

“And pray.”

He nodded. “And pray.”

Leah came into the barn. “Is it true that you got a puppy?”

Samuel took the dog from Catherine and held Hope out to his sister. “Go on.”

Leah reluctantly moved in closer and took her.

Catherine stroked the puppy’s head. “Her name is Hope.”

“Thanks for covering for me.” Leah’s eyes didn’t quite meet his.

“You need to stop doing things that would hurt the people you care about. And stop mooning over Michael. He’s not worth it.”

Leah seemed like a child in some ways, as innocent as Katie and Betsy, who’d been so excited about Hope. But the excitement he’d seen in her moments earlier had disappeared. She looked as if she’d like to melt into the floorboards and disappear.

Leah pulled the furry little pup closer before she passed Hope back to Samuel and left without saying another word.

Catherine put her hand on Samuel’s back and scratched it lightly. “I see the guilt on your face, Samuel. But she needs to know you don’t approve of her behavior.”

He felt the weight of Leah’s actions more than he should. If messing up her own life wasn’t hurtful enough, and it was, he knew Catherine would never be the same if Leah left and Arlan followed. “I’m doing my best. You know that, right?”

“I know, and you’ll get us beyond our current problems with our siblings, and our days will become peaceful as we focus on our life together and having a family.”

Catherine’s viewpoints tended to be oversimplified, but she often said what he needed to hear.

He propped his forearms on his knees. “I hope you’re right.”

ELEVEN

Leah sat on a hard bench in her neighbor’s barn, trying not to think about God while the minister preached on and on about being faithful to His perfect, divine plan. She and Arlan had talked a lot about her feelings toward God, but he never felt exhausted by the topic the way she did. He embraced every thought about God, and then he either accepted what was said as accurate or filed it away as skewed. It’d be nice to have that kind of peace.

But this was a church Sunday, and every other week she had to sit with the single girls in her age group, each of them wearing a white organdy apron to signify her purity. She hated pretending to worship a God who, at best, didn’t like her any more than she liked herself.

When the sermon finally ended, everyone moved from the benches onto their knees for silent prayer. Leah stole glances at her girlfriends, whose heads were all bowed reverently. Elsie, Anna, and Nancy had gone to the same party she had on Friday night, but here they were, heads bowed, eyes closed, wearing the pious clothing of a people who’d separated themselves from the world. Maybe Samuel had a point about her being a hypocrite. But the only way she could stop being a hypocrite was to leave the order. Being seventeen and jobless, she had no way of doing that.

“Amen.” The preacher’s voice echoed through the old barn, and the congregation stood.

Leah looked past the preacher’s stand at the hundred or so men with their hats in their hands. She couldn’t see Michael among them, but she knew he was there toward the back with the rest of the single men his age. Did he know she’d left the party by herself? Did he even care?

She filed out of the barn behind the girls who’d left her at the party. Her mind burned with choice words she’d never say to them.

A group of little children, free from their parents’ restraints after the three-hour service, fled into the yard to run off their energy. Leah wished she could so easily escape the restrictions that bound her.

She needed to talk to Michael so they could patch things up. Ever since he started his rumschpringe, he’d been flirting with other girls, had even dated a few, but he always came back to her. Always.

Ignoring her so-called friends, she followed the older women toward the house. Tables needed to be set and food served. Halfway between the barn and the house, Nancy and Anna came out of nowhere and grabbed her arms. Leah let them lead her to the middle of the yard before she jerked free of their grip.

Anna moved in close, whispering, “What happened to you Friday night?”

“You all left without me.”

Elsie joined the group. “Shush.” She glanced at the men who were moving benches from the barn into the house for the midday meal. “Either talk quieter or not at all. I’d rather not give my parents a heart attack on a Sunday.”

“Ya.” Leah rolled her eyes. “That’d be more ungodly than doing so on Monday through Saturday.”

Elsie scoffed. “Fine, Leah. Let’s all watch while you tell your parents what you’ve been doing with your Friday nights.”

Her blood boiled. “You
should
watch—watch me tell them how you left me at some Englischer’s house. How you didn’t even check on me all day yesterday after you abandoned me!”

Anna raised her nose, looking down on Leah as if she were as unimportant as a bug on a sidewalk. “We didn’t leave
you
Friday. We met at Brad’s car at the same time we always do, just like we were supposed to, and we waited for twenty minutes. You never showed.”

“Girls,” Mamm called from the front porch. “Kumm help. Now.”

“Ya.
In paar Minudde
.” Leah assured her Mamm she’d be there in a minute. “I always thought my
friends
cared about me, no matter what. But you
really showed your true colors Friday night. I asked Mamm, and she said no one called or came by or anything yesterday.” She walked off.

Nancy caught her by the arm. “You’re right. And I’m sorry.”

“Ya, me too,” Elsie said.

They sounded sincere enough that Leah was tempted to believe them.

“We’re all really sorry,” Anna said. “We thought you got a ride home with that Englisch guy we saw you with at the party—Turner?”

Elsie touched Leah’s shoulder. “Let’s meet at the Zip’n Mart next Friday. And we won’t let Brad leave without all of us. Okay?”

“Not me.” Leah straightened her apron. “Samuel had to come get me, and I had to buy his silence. I won’t be going much of anywhere for at least four weeks.”

The girls looked horrified—whether out of concern for her or because they couldn’t stomach the idea of not getting away on the weekend, she didn’t know.

Leah hurried inside and began helping the other women put out place settings and move food from the icebox and kitchen counters to the individual tables. Since only four or five tables fit in a room, the church leaders and elders would eat first, then the other men. It’d be an hour or so before the women her age could eat. As she took a platter of freshly sliced homemade bread to one of the tables, her stomach rumbled.

Why did the Amish have to live in the Dark Ages? Honestly. The men had it made. Not only did they get to eat first, but they had almost no chores on Sundays. They got a weekly day of rest, but the women still had to serve meals, clean up, take care of the babies.
Join the twenty-first century, people. Or at least the twentieth
.

Her Mamm always said she should be glad the Sunday church meals were simple and prepared ahead of time—bread made the day before; ham, cheese, and peanut butter spreads; fresh fruits; pickles; red beets; raw vegetables; pre-baked pies, with coffee, water, and lemonade.

After the first group had been served, Leah sneaked outside where the young people gathered in small groups on the lawn. Spotting her younger sister
Katie in a huddle of girls that included her so-called friends, Leah headed that way. Surely none of them was so loose lipped as to tell her little sister about Friday night.

When Leah arrived at the group, she pulled Katie aside. “Hey, why don’t you come inside and help me?”

“Mamm said I could stay out here.”

Leah tucked her arm tighter around Katie’s. “Kumm. Please?”

“Okay.” They walked arm in arm. “I heard that all you teens got together somewhere Friday night and that Michael was flirting with some other girl. And right in front of you. Why would he do that?”

Leah wished she knew. “What else did you hear about Friday?”

“Nothing. Is there more to it?”

Leah figured way too many of the youth now knew about Michael’s embarrassing behavior toward her—mere months after she’d told everyone they were seeing each other. That’s what Michael had told her, wasn’t it? That they were on their way to being married one day?

From the corner of her eye, she saw him laughing with a group of young men. He seemed completely content without her. Maybe he didn’t care about her at all. Or maybe that girl at the party had just temporarily turned his head.

She couldn’t talk to him right now. It wasn’t the Amish way to get in mixed groups and chat before everyone had been served their after-meeting meal. But she’d catch up with him later in the week, and she held tight to the hope of winning him back.

The buzz of casual conversations in Pennsylvania Dutch filled the Amish home, reminding Jacob of all that was good inside his community. There were few Amish traditions higher on his list of cherished moments than the after-church mealtime.