Abram's Daughters 03 The Sacrifice (7 page)

The roof of her father's barn caught Leah's eye, the brilliant reflection of the moon dousing the silvery tin with its whiteness. She heard what she thought was one of their mules braying. Mules weren't nearly as stubborn as some folks seemed to think. They could be coaxed, not easily, but persuaded nevertheless to work the narrowest sections of the field. And mules required less feed and had greater fortitude than horses. ,. , .:. , , . , , . ,

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H Old glanced over at the barn. "What's the racket over

Hrs?"

H "Must be a bat tormenting the livestock." She looked up HDkl. "Ever see one lunge at a mule?" H To this they both laughed, and she welcomed his hand Hdlng hers. His companionably firm clasp made her own Hftcl sivm small and almost fragile, and once again she was Hftk\l lit the long-dormant stirring within. She moved along Hhln side, keeping pace with his stride. H "Speaking of mules," Gid said halfway across the field, ^wlju ever hear of certain long-ago ministers sayin' it was ^tnisive to mix God's creatures because our heavenly Father Hin'l create such an animal in the first place? Like breeding Hiorse and a donkey to produce a mule." H "jiih, Dat's said as much . . . but we all have mules these Hjm, ain't? So what do you make of that?" H: "Sure beats trying to get the field horses to go into steep ^Ct'S or some of the more narrow spots in the field," GidHi led.

H They talked slowly as they walked, both seemingly hesiHit to call it a night now that they were getting on so well. H)W that they were alone with only the moon, the stars, and Hi blackness of the sky.

H I cah's impression of the last full hour with Gid had grown Hit liltle garden in her heart. Never in the most secret landHk|H' of her soul could she have foreseen the joy she felt as ^m walked with Gid Peachey, picking her way through the Hick grazing land, her hand snugly in his. H "What would you say if I told you this is the happiest hlghl- of my life?" he came right out and said. , .,. '':' , ;.

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A lump crept into her throat, and she was afraid she might cry again. She dared not try to answer.

He must have understood and squeezed her hand, turning to face her. His wavy light brown hair seemed almost colorless in the glow of the moon. "I hope it's not too forward of me. . . ."

She wondered what he might say and, composing herself, she asked, "What is it, Gid?"

He paused but for a moment. "I'd like to court you, if you . . . well, if you might agree."

She didn't once glance sheepishly at the Ebersol Cottage as she often did when talking with Gid here lately. No, she kept her gaze on him, studying the rugged lines of his face, the unabashed attraction he displayed for her as he leaned slightly forward.

She knew she'd traversed the gamut of feelings, from reluctance at the outset of the evening to this strange yet wonderful sincerity, the way she felt at this moment surely it wasn't the moonlight and gentle sweet breeze of the wee hours, was it?

Smithy Gid's invitation was hard to resist. "Jah, I'll go for steady with you," she replied.

Then and there, he picked her up and swung her around and around. Her joy knew no bounds, because she had been so sure in that most secret room of her heart she would never, ever feel this way again. Yet here she was . . . and she did.69vn->

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June's fair weather swept into the soaring temperatures of midsummer, and Mamma's lilies flourished, amassed in a solid I icil of eye-catching pink.

On her way to the outhouse, Mary Ruth happened to lirush past them, deep in thought, not paying any mind that her for-good purple dress had gotten some of the golden red pollen smeared on it. When she did notice it, she tried to Inuish it off with her hand, setting the stain but good. Realizing what she'd do*ie, she hurried back to the house and told Mamma.

"Ach, you must always use adhesive tape to get lily pollen nil," Mamma said.

"That or wipe it off with an old rag . . . anything but your hands," Aunt Lizzie said, explaining the natural oils from the kin set the stain.

Mamma continued. "If the stain stays put after using the i.ig, let the sun bleach it out."

Mary Ruth sighed and looked down at the smudged mess. "Well, now I have nothing to wear to the singing. My other

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good dress is too snug through the middle."

Aunt Lizzie shook her head. "Then you may just have to stay home and sew a new one tomorrow."

"What?" Mary Ruth didn't catch on to Aunt Lizzie's kidding at first.

Lizzie's face broke into a smile. "Come, let me see what I can do."

Mamma left the kitchen to tend to Lydiann, who was wailing upstairs, and while Aunt Lizzie scrubbed with an old rag, Mary Ruth bemoaned the fact that Hannah was refusing to double court with her. "My twin's not herself," she confided.

Lizzie seemed to perk up her ears. "Why would that be?"

Mary Ruth wouldn't go so far as to say more than "Hannah's persnickety these days . . . been so all summer, really."

"Well, in some cases, that's not such a bad thing," Lizzie said, still scrubbing. "All depends on what a person's bein' particular about, ain't so?"

Good point, thought Mary Ruth. "Still. . . ever since Hannah started taking baptismal classes, she seems aloof."

"For gut reason, I 'spect." Aunt Lizzie stepped back to look over the pollen stain and Mary Ruth herself.

"Why do you think that?"

: "I daresay if you consider it carefully, you prob'ly already know."

She knew, all right. She just hated to admit it to anyone, especially Aunt Lizzie. For the longest time it seemed Hannah had been too quiet, almost downhearted. Was it the absence of Sadie . . . the unending silence from Ohio? Or was Hannah peeved at her for not following the Lord in holy baptism as

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iMIiiiiili herself hoped to do come fall? No one but her twin mew ilnit Mary Ruth had refused, of course. It wasn't someRlni4 you went around telling, not amongst the People. The lomrn folk would frown and carry on something awful if they Ifli'w I he Ebersol twins close in looks and upbringing nielli he heading in different directions, one certainly not in fit* I 'Id Ways of their forefathers.

Aimr Lizzie was still scrubbing the spot awful hard, and liiiy Ruth wondered if she might be attending the singing *llh ;i hole in her best dress or, just as bad, a smeared stain.

"I lave you asked Hannah to loan you one of her dresses?" \w\\\ Lizzie's question cut through the stillness.

She hadn't thought of that. "I best not be askin' her for nyihing."

Lizzie's hands rested hard on her slender hips. "Pity's sake, lie I wo of you have shared nearly everything since you were loi h just little ones." She frowned and cocked her head, lookriM nwful curious.

I "If you promise not to tell, I'll say why," she whispered lick.

I Rut Aunt Lizzie surprised her startled her, really by licking away and waving her hands in front of her. "No . . . 'in not interested in hearin' or keepin' any more secrets. I've turned a mighty hard lesson."

A Lint Lizzie's response made Mary Ruth feel even more lime and made her want to tell her aunt all the more. But it IMS no use to plead. Truth was, contrary to what Hannah night say or think, Mary Ruth hadn't fully decided whether )l not to join the Amish church. What was the rush, anyway? liinnah could make her covenant this September if she

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chose, without Mary Ruth tagging along just because they were twins and all. Then, when Mary Ruth was good and ready, she'd decide, and not one moment before. Meanwhile, she wanted to take her time with rumschpringe, just as Dat had said to do back last year. Joining church, after all, was for a lifetime, so it could wait... for now. She had too much fun ahead of her to get bogged down with required membership meetings where the People sat and voted on weighty issues like shunning wayward and sinful folk. No, she didn't think she was ready for that kind of responsibility. And, if the full truth were known, she sometimes resented the People for ousting Sadie the way they had when all the girl had gone and done was fall in love with the wrong boy. Sure, Sadie had known better, but putting her under the Bann for life was so awful harsh, wasn't it? Unforgiving too. Mary Ruth wasn't certain she could set herself up as a holy example amongst the People . . . not the powerful way she longed for Elias's hugs and kisses, though Mamma would have a fit if she knew. With Hannah and Ezra courting on their own, the temptation would be stronger for her when with Elias, especially when the moon was as bright and beautiful as it would be tonight.

"If you won't ask Hannah for a clean dress, what 'bout Leah?" Aunt Lizzie suggested.

"Gut idea . . . just might solve the predicament," Mary Ruth said and reached for her aunt, gave her a grateful hug, and hurried out the back door in search of Leah.

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Llxzie could see Ida needed to give extra attention to

i I llflnii, who was awful fussy following supper, so Lizzie stayed

11 I'lenn up the dishes, then dropped off Hannah, Mary Ruth,

Itiu! Leah at the barn singing over at Abram's brother Jesse

fllu^'Hol's place. It was right nice to see Leah participating in

llii1 ficliviiies with the young folk again; Lizzie's heart was

{inly yliul.

Wlu'ii she returned from the trip, she took her time unhitching the horse and carriage, in no hurry to head toward lln house. The evening was pleasant, and what with having I il cu the girls to the singing, she was feeling a slight bit sorry (i herself. Not like her, really. She knew she ought not to filli-w her thoughts to stray back to her own courting years, I nit A brain had told her rather falteringly on several occasions lli 11 Leah had been asking questions of him, wanting to know .il" nit her father namely who he was. If Lizzie had her druthii, she'd just as soon never say.

Straightening now, she looked toward the woods and her l"r house, put there by Abram and his brothers back when -11' was in sucht^i bad way, expecting Leah and scarcely but a nil I herself . . . not knowing anything about her baby's father. ,\i least, not back then. And now didn't it beat all for Leah I" In1 so interested in knowing?

Just what was she to tell Leah? She certainly couldn't

l'i mi: herself to make known the whole story how she'd run

in' miuI something terrible as a teenager, thumbing a car ride

yfrllli a complete stranger, an Englischer at that. Oh, the idea

H| revealing such a thing to precious Leah made her feel

HilKsy with embarrassment. She almost wished to roll back

Hp calendar, thinking it might've been better to leave things

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as they had been, with Leah thinking Ida was her one and only mamma.

If I could relive the worst of my youth, what would I do differently? she wondered, shuddering at the sudden thought. If she had not had her hair cut or her face made up on New Year's Eve back when and drunk far too much moonshine dear

sweet Leah would never have been conceived. Truly, the Lord God had wrought a miracle of life and joy out of her great sin.

Feeling glum, she found herself heading toward the Ebersol Cottage, hoping she might offer to help Ida with something, anything at all, as an excuse to stay. At the moment she could not face her own empty house.

She discovered Ida giving Lydiann a bath in the middle of the kitchen in the big galvanized tub. "Here, let me do that for you." She knelt down to splash her little niece while Ida rose and went to sit across the room in Abram's hickory rocker.

"I'm all in," Ida admitted, fanning her face with her apron.

"You just rest there, sister." And to Lydiann, she said, "Now, ain't that right? We'll let your mamma be for a bit while you get all soaped up and clean." She couldn't help it; the baby talk came flying fast out of her mouth as she enjoyed bathing the adorable toddler.

Soon Abram clumped indoors to wash his hands. He made over Lydiann, still sitting in four inches or so of water that had been warmed by the kettle on the wood stove. Lydiann tapped a wooden spoon on the water's surface, making more and more bubbles.

"Well, now, Ida, looks like we've got ourselves a tidy

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pUftHNter," said Abram, standing near the tub and watching.

I "Soon it'll be Ida's turn in the bath, jah?" Lizzie said,

Ulli'ing ;i1 Ida, who was grinning at her wee daughter, lath-

nd up I mm head to toe.

I "I should say so," Ida replied. "Goodness knows, I must

lilt II like a pig, what with the awful heat this week."

I I izzie offered to tuck Lydiann in for the night, but the girl

It'll up a storm when she went to pick her up. "Aw, you

Mtilin I'liiy longer?" She set her back down.

I Aluam chuckled. "You're spoiling the child; that's plain to

I, "

I "She's only two once, ain't?" Ida said, beaming with love

km the rocking chair.

I I loing to sit on the bench, Abram leaned back against the

He, His elbows spread behind him. "You's oughta guess who

Hit into this morning," he said.

"Who?" Lizzie said.

"Peter Mast." On any given day, Abram would have Miiiilod all discussion about the Masts, quickly looking at the Ihhi if they were* mentioned in conversation, as if merely inn injj; the name caused him distress.

"Hid he speak to ya?" Ida asked, leaning forward. I "Not a word." Abram shook his head. "'Tis the oddest In ill!, really." I "Jah" was all Ida said.

I I izzie had an idea maybe not such a bright one, but she pHred it anyway. "Has anyone thought of taking some fruit IN over to Fannie Mast?" I Ida clasped her hands and brought them up as if praying.

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"I've considered doing so any number of times as a goodwill gesture."

"A peace offering?" Abram frowned, clearly not sure if this was something to ponder, let alone pursue.

"What if you sent the twins over to deliver the pies?" Lizzie suggested.