Abram's Daughters 04 The Prodigal (10 page)

H "I'Wrything all right?" she asked, getting up to stand near

Bin

"Sure," he said, not convincing her.

H " there's something on your mind."

I As Ik- turned, Robert's eyes seemed to search hers. "I'm

Hjllni!1 in love with you, Mary Ruth."

H I In heart leaped up at his words, but she felt torn, as well.

HJi >l >

Heivk, and she felt compelled to reveal the past and the

Hmiliing apprehensions that troubled her at the prospect of

Hi engagement. She must find the courage to share what she

Hid held so close all this time.

H "I care deeply for you, too, Robert," she replied softly.

H\m (here is something you must know, if you don't already."

H "Dear, what is it?" He reached for her hands. "Have I

Him* Something to offend you . . . said something out of

Hmr

H ^be assured him that was not the case and let unfold the Hniy of the day she had seen his younger brother running ilnwii Georgetown Road. "He was fit to be tied." "You met Derek?"

She nodded and then continued. "More than once. Your I mil her and my sister. . . poor Sadie, were . . ." She couldn't hi in),' herself to say the word lovers.

Robert was frowning, evidently puzzled. "What is it?" "Sadie had a baby. . . with Derek."

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Robert flinched suddenly and shook his head, as if unable to believe his ears.

"My sister had a wild rumschpringe, and she met your brother somehow, somewhere I don't know much about that." She sighed, sickened at the thought of being the one to inform him, for it was obvious he was not aware of this shocking news. "Their baby. . . was stillborn, and Sadie was unrepentant about her relationship with Derek, which, I was told, was the reason she left to go to Ohio. And why she was eventually shunned."

He looked at her as if astounded. "Oh, Mary Ruth, I had no idea."

She was sorry to upset him, yet relieved he apparently believed her.

He squeezed her hand and held it for a moment, staring down. When at last he looked at her, his eyes were intense. "At the very least, I must apologize for Derek's behavior toward Sadie."

She felt grateful for his words. "Please . . . can we keep this private ... just between us?" She had almost hesitated to ask this, but he immediately agreed, and she was rather surprised he didn't inquire of her further, asking if there might have been some misunderstanding ... if another young man might have been the father of her sister's child. But nothing of the kind was mentioned, and Mary Ruth felt he trusted her implicitly.

Still, neither knew how to handle the fact that a marriage between them would have the unintended consequence of also uniting Derek and Sadie once more, if only as in-laws, serving as a lifetime reminder of their regrettable past.

The evening had taken a much different turn than the

97.Prodigal

iiimnntic moment Robert must surely have had in mind for

11 inn. Heart heavy, Mary Ruth accompanied him to the front i h h >r. He kissed her cheek before he slipped out into the cold ihi;Ih. "I'll call you soon, dear."

"Good night," she said, the softly spoken word dear linwring in her mind long after midnight.

m

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J onas settled back into his favorite chair by the fire with a copy of The Budget, enjoying the many accounts of Christmas from various towns around Ohio, sometimes even chuckling aloud in the stillness of the kitchen. He read till his eyes were tired, then stood up to put out the gas lamp.

Sitting back down, he took pleasure in the silence as his eyes slowly became accustomed to the darkness. Emma had long since turned in for the night, having suffered a head cold for a second day. He delighted in recalling the happiness on her sweet face at his gift on Christmas morning the antique vase.

His mind wandered back to the encounter with the aging fellow he'd met at the recent auction, where he had seen and bid on the colorful vase. He found himself wondering if, indeed, he was the person the particular Jonas Mast meant for the old letter, as the elderly gentleman had seemed to indicate. And the more he pondered this, the more he wished he'd spoken up, offered to ride to wherever it was the man was living and see for himself the letter in question.99..Prodigal

Not usually curious, he surprised himself by repeating the i-vi'iit in his mind. Tired as he was, Jonas did not wish to see the new year in, as groups of young people were sure to be doing this night one group, in fact, just down the long dirt liine that passed the farmhouse. He knew there were couples IniiIding a bonfire on the frozen lake, probably making ready lo roast marshmallows. He and Emma had seen a good many youth gathering there on previous New Year's Eves, and if by rhance some of the boys drank too much moonshine, the immature noises of glee carried well over the lake and down i his way.

Tonight, however, he didn't care to know how many were shivering in the cold or showing off for their sweethearts if indeed they were. He wondered if most were in the middle of rumschpringe and if they would end up joining church sooner i;iiher than later.

For a moment he contemplated the Bann put on him by i he Gobbler's Knob church. It was peculiar that a revered minister would impose such a ruthless punishment, shunning I hose who did not stay put in the church of their baptism . . . not to mention those pursuing a livelihood other than farming. All the same, Jonas knew of several other like-minded brethren here locally, some being ultraconservative Swartzcntruber Amish.

Inhaling deeply, he was grateful that Emma scarcely ever , sought to explore the landscape of his past, though he had responded through the years to any number of questions she'd had about Lancaster County and his family.

Growing weary, Jonas rose to his feet and headed upstairs.

100^lOeoerly d~- e to I s

Leah noticed how bright-eyed Abe was as he sat himself down at the breakfast table New Year's Day, after having helped Dat and Sadie with the milking. Lydiann had remained indoors again to help Leah make cornmeal mush, fried eggs, and bacon, something she was doing more and more at both Dat's and Leah's bidding.

"We oughta have some hot cocoa for breakfast, too," Lydiann said, a mischievous smile on her face. " 'Tis better tasting than coffee."

"But hot chocolate doesn't go well with fresh-squeezed orange juice, do ya think?" Leah asked, standing at the cookstove.

Lydiann shrugged and continued to set the table. "I don't give a care, really."

"Something botherin' my girl?"

"Jah." Lydiann wandered over and stood next to Leah.

Leah was eager to listen, and by not saying more, she got Lyddie to open up and share her heart.

" 'Tween you and me, Mamma, Mary Ruth really annoys me, 'cause she lives over there with the Nolts and not here with us. And she dotes on Carl something awful."

So that's what was troubling her last night. She's jealous of her sister's affection for Carl, Leah decided.

"I thought you and Carl were pals."

"Maybe so, but. . . it's just that. . ." Lydiann hesitated; then she shrugged.

Leah patted Lydiann's arm. "I daresay things'll change as time goes by." She was thinking of how likely it was that Mary Ruth would settle down and marry, and once that happened, their sister wouldn't be so connected to the Nolts especially

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mt101"Lfie '.Prodigal

jin Curl, which was apparently the crux of Lydiann's corn-

Ll.iUit.

j "Whai if Mary Ruth likes Carl better than me?" Lydiann

I mi.Ulot11 y burst out, tears pooling in her eyes.

I "Adi, Lyddie, come here." She held out her arms to hold

l]iri" i;iil ;md drew her near. "There, there . . . you mustn't fret

I |nt\v. You've got Abe and me . . . and Dat, too." She named

loll Amu Lizzie and Dawdi John, as well. "And you've got

iHiulli1," Leah added. "You and your eldest sister have become

li|iillf dose in a short time."

I I ydiiinn dried her eyes and sat on the long bench on the

pern side of the table. "But what if Sadie leaves again?" she

piskc'il. "Why'd she live somewhere else anyway. . . all those

Wfitrsi"'

I "I k-r husband lived in Indiana you know that."

I "No ... I mean before she was married. How come she

It mini up out west, 'stead of livin' here in Gobbler's Knob?"

I "Perhaps someday you'll know. . . when you're older."

I A strained silence fell over the kitchen and was abruptly

(broken when Dat pushed in through the back door, clunking

Itlisiilc wearing his work boots. Sadie was right behind him,

lclu'd

I Leah rose to welcome them. "Come wash up ... breakfast

lilt nice 'n' hot." She motioned for Lydiann to scoot over and

ll at her usual place, aware of the brooding look on the girl's

pice, Lyddie's sullenness mustn't get the best of her, thought Leah,

Ib tping to find a way to nip it in the bud.

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Leah felt in the pit of her stomach that something was amiss, even before Dat and Gid came in the house midmorning to warm up awhile, eager for some hot coffee and freshly baked chocolate-chip cookies. Her dread deepened when Dat and Gid both said they hadn't seen hide nor hair of Abe.

"Not since immediately following breakfast," Dat said.

"We thought he'd run an errand for you over to my mamma, maybe," Gid said.

Upon hearing this, Leah headed straight for her woolen shawl.

Dat's hand on her arm interrupted her. "I'll go 'n' look for him," he said. "You stay here with the family. . . in case he comes home a-hankerin' for some hot cocoa and cookies."

She let go of her shawl and stood with her back against the hard wall, watching her father shove his big feet into mud-caked work boots. With not a sigh or a word of goodbye, he reached for his heavy coat and scarf and stepped out the back door.

He's worried, now, became I am, she thought. Dat could read her, so to speak, from all the years they'd worked side by side in the barn and the fields, no doubt. He knew how she thought, and when moments like this arose, he trusted her instincts. Something was terribly wrong, and now Dat knew it, too. .:> .

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Abr

/ \hriim inhaled deeply through his nose lest he chill his

I'lngg as he tramped through the frozen pastureland toward M I,. hurm cornfield and eventually Smitty's wide meadow. ! I In' p;iill he cut through the ice and snow made a direct line

11 i his house to the Peacheys' back door, where he chose to

j i<'M, since Miriam somehow observed most everything that

ni on from the many windows in her kitchen. When she

I c' lo the door and welcomed him inside, she asked right

j mi .iy il he was looking for Abe. He assured her that he was. "Well, I saw him head out to the pond," and here she

I'l'iniwl and raised her chin a bit, staring hard in the direction ji i Uluckbird Pond, where they'd gone ice fishing three days

1 "I low long ago?"

"Oh, it's been some time." Miriam wore a sudden frown. ' \ j;ihkI two hours or more, I'd have to say."

A I remor of foreboding caught Abram off guard, and he i ii ual and swiftly headed down the steps, waving his hand in il in well without looking back.

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Two hours . . . in this cold?

He could not imagine what Abe might be doing out in this frigid weather, and he quickened his pace.

Lorraine Schwartz had been rather astonished at how much her husband had seemingly enjoyed himself at the Nolts' house last evening. When Henry had first met the Ebersols there, she'd noticed that he was somewhat standoffish, yet as the ice was broken and people began passing the food, eating and talking, he relaxed and entered into conversation with Abram, who was quite an interesting fellow, Lorraine thought. She had also noticed her husband discreetly studying Sadie, whom Lorraine had recognized with a jolt, to be sure, recalling the urgent look on Sadie's young face when she had unexpectedly come calling for Derek years ago.

Something else had caught Lorraine's interest last evening. It was the way Henry spoke to young Carl Nolt his gestures, the softness in his voice. She couldn't help but notice the camaraderie between them and wondered how it was that Carl, healthy as he had always been, would have connected so well with Henry on so few clinic visits. Yet Henry was undeniably playful and easily succeeded in drawing out the young boy. Henry will be a wonderful grandfather someday, she thought with a smile.

Presently making her way to the kitchen, the recollection of the supper next door caused her to wish the whole group of them might enjoy yet another opportunity to dine together.Perhaps at Robert's wedding . . . if Robert can indeed win Mary Ruth's heart.

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She would not hold her breath on that matter, however, brilUlse Mary Ruth gave the distinct impression she was holdIng buck. Lorraine didn't mind if Robert took his time wooing the funner Amish girl, for she was fond of both Mary Ruth Hlul her older sister Leah. Each of the Ebersol girls was sweet ill her own unique way, although the pained, sad eyes of their filler sister, Sadie, caused Lorraine to wonder just what the lirmililul girl had ever wanted with Derek that distant night, Wnlling for hours on their front steps for his return home.

liroo

"Abe . . . no!" Abram gasped, sucking cold air into his tinijlj.s as he stooped down. There before him lay his son faceiil"\vn on the ice of Blackbird Pond. He called to him and

11- -Iled him over, patting his face at first, and then slapped him

11H ii- quick smack, becoming even more alarmed when Abe did K respond. Not even an eyelid flickered. , M"Abe!" he hollered. '/';/ '.-.V.'.

^Hol'ill no response.

Wm Abram panicked and, not wasting another moment, he lirooped his limp child into his arms and carried him back to [tile Peacheys' house. Somehow or other Abe had been Ik nocked out cold, and the fierceness of the winter weather digressed Abram as he pounded his fist on Smitty's storm Illnor.