Between Two Promises (7 page)

“Why Joe Karpin’s daughter?” Daniel wondered why Joe Karpin, the Englishman who hauled the Amish around in his fifteen-seat van for a small fee, wasn’t picking up his uncles.

“Him and Mrs. Karpin are wintering down south somewhere. His daughter’s filling in for him.”

“Sounds like you’ll have a full house, for sure,” Daniel said. He hadn’t remembered so many relatives traveling to his and Esther’s wedding. “Where’re you putting them all?”

Rachel sighed again. “Aunt Frieda’s staying in Grace and Moriah’s room. The girls’ll find a place to sleep with Elisabeth. David’s moving in with Mark so your uncles can stay in his room with the two beds. Ach, I’ll be glad when the place clears out.”

They talked about the wedding plans, relatives they hadn’t seen in many years, the difficulty of traveling long distances in winter. The Millers kept switching to Pennsylvania German, although the others spoke mostly in English. Daniel had no idea if the Millers knew how the family had become acquainted with Aiden, but he assumed Heidi, who had been clearly thrilled with Aiden’s story of how he saved the Schrocks, had filled them in.

Aiden looked relieved when Moriah asked him to see the quilt she was working on in Leah’s bedroom. Recently, the family had converted the small sewing room into a makeshift bedroom for Leah so she’d be closer to Rachel and Samuel, since her wheelchair made getting upstairs near impossible. With Aiden safely away from the uptight kitchen table, Daniel, grabbing his coat and hat, took the opportunity to duck out to the barn and check on the horses.

Living in Montana, Daniel missed his favorite buggy horses, especially Gertrude. He’d won her at auction last summer. Seemed from another life. Another man. He shook his head, remembering how his mother had forced him to take along Aiden, still staying with them at the farm after he’d saved the family. He’d refused to confess to himself at the time, but Aiden had already grabbed his heart. He’d captivated Daniel with his curly black hair, golden eyes, and heartfelt gumption. Difficult to believe he’d first met Aiden a mere year and a half ago. Never in a million years had he foreseen their lives would become so entwined.

He stopped short when he came across David, raking soiled hay from Gertrude’s stall.

“Hello,” Daniel said. “Good to bump into you. We hadn’t much time for talking. You been hiding away since I got here.”

“What’s to talk about?” David said, clutching onto the rake. His brow was corrugated with deep wrinkles for such a young boy, and his mouth was puckered into a rigid hole.

David’s behavior hadn’t changed since yesterday. He was still angry at something. But at what? Even in the dull light of the barn, his eyes no longer flashed like bright gray marbles but seemed darker, opaque, and without sheen. Anger clouded those charcoal eyes.

How long had such harshness stewed inside his growing frame? Had it existed even before Daniel had moved to Montana, he wondered as he dug a curry brush from a bin by the horse stalls. Was his orneriness the typical brooding of a hatchling adolescent, or did he suspect something he disliked about Daniel? Something about him and Aiden?

David was always astute, too astute for the boy’s own good.

Pulling the curry brush strap over his hand and stepping up to Gertrude, Daniel said, “I was interested in how things been for you. Anything new going on? What do you think of our baby sister?”

“She’s a baby,” David mumbled. “There’s nothing to think about. She sleeps all the time and dirties up lots of diapers. That’s what babies do.”

Daniel chuckled despite himself. “Ya, I figure that’s the truth.”

The mare’s thick black coat rippled under the touch of the curry brush’s rubber bristles. Gertrude, like the other horses, had grown a long winter coat since Daniel had last seen her in the summer, and extra care was needed to keep her hair untangled and clean.

“I can see you been taking good care of the horses,” he said to David. “They look healthy and happy. I thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me about,” David said. “It’s my job to care for the animals.”

“Good you take to it so diligent. You show a lot of maturity for a twelve-year-old.” Daniel hoped to soften whatever hardness roosted inside his youngest brother. Chiseling away at rosewood fared easier.

Being the middle child of a large family never came easy, Daniel guessed. With a new baby sister and Daniel having moved clear across the country, chores probably had piled up for him.

Unless David’s sour temper was the result of something else.

“Nobody likes dirty choring,” Daniel said when David remained silent. “Mom tells me in her letters you do it with hardly any complaint, and that’s goot.”

“It’s no big deal,” David murmured.

“Don’t underestimate yourself, David. You’re good to have around the farm.”

David glared at him. “Someone’s got to be, right? Now, if you don’t mind, I got more choring to do in the buggy shed.” He dropped his rake to the ground and stomped out of the stall.

Shaking his head, Daniel worried over his little brother’s testy behavior. He recalled how restless he’d been at David’s age, yet there seemed more to it.

Probably wasn’t such a good idea to bring Aiden here, Daniel worried again, his head still shaking in dismay while he focused on brushing Gertrude. Too much raw emotion lingered at the farmhouse. Too many hidden threats still haunting Frederick County.

“You look to be in deep thoughts.”

Daniel looked up to find his father standing outside Gertrude’s stall. “Ach, hello, Dad. I thought you were in the basement doing watch repair.”

“Ya, but I needed some fresh air.”

Daniel sniggered. “In the barn?”

“Better than the house.”

“Too many guests?”

“Ya, and it’s only going to get worse,” Samuel said. “Your mom’s already running around like a rabid hound.”

“It’ll be over soon enough. After the wedding and Christmas, it’ll all quiet down.”

“Ach, you think so?” Samuel wrinkled his forehead. “Most likely not. Already having nightmares about Mark and Heidi’s baby screaming above our heads. One wailing baby’s enough.”

“I’m sure they’ll be settled in their own farm by the time they have any kinner,” Daniel said.

“Let’s hope so. Thank da Hah if the house ever gets emptied.”

Samuel grabbed the rake from the ground and took up where David had left off. Daniel hadn’t noticed with the commotion when they’d arrived yesterday, but his father seemed older than the last time he’d seen him over the summer. His shoulders slumped forward as he raked. His beard, almost completely gray now, scraped against his ever-protruding belly. His movements were slow and almost pained. For sure the added child, not to mention Leah’s worsening illness, taxed his middle-aged father.

“At least you’re wearing your Amish clothes,” Samuel said out of the blue, sizing Daniel up and down while he chored. “And you let your hair and beard grow. Those are good signs.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow at his father, the curry brush poised over Gertrude’s back. “What do you mean?”

“That last time you were here, you looked like you had enlisted in the Marines. You gave your mom a start. What exactly is it you’re doing in Montana, Daniel?” his father asked him, returning his eyes to the raking.

“I’m doing woodwork. You know that.” Daniel went back to brushing the standardbred, wishing his father had never left the basement, where he fixed busted watches for a second income.

“Can’t you do woodworking here, like you used to?”

“I like it there,” Daniel said. “I told you about it.”

“Perhaps your mom and me should take the train and come out and see you, when the weather warms. Perhaps this spring, after the planting. Your mom reads me some of your letters. You describe the place like it’s heaven.”

Daniel stiffened. There was no way he could allow his parents to visit him in Montana. Not with Aiden living with him. “I live in a very small cabin,” he said. “Maybe you should wait until I find something bigger.”

Keeping to his task, Samuel said, “We still don’t understand why you called off your wedding to Tara Hostetler and moved out there.”

The horse’s nickering and blustering filled the silence. “Tara and me weren’t meant to be,” Daniel said. “I think you realize that.”

“Then why did you ask her to be your wife?”

Daniel sighed. “I thought I was ready after Esther and Zach’s deaths, but I was wrong.”

“She was a good choice for you,” his father said. “I hear she’s courting someone from another community back east. It may be too late for you to patch things up with her, but I don’t see why you can’t try.”

“I don’t plan on patching things up with her, Dad. I’m here to sit next to my brother while he gets married, and that’s all.”

“Are you going to the church gatherings in Montana at least?” Samuel went on.

“Nay, I have to say I haven’t, not yet.”

“That’s a gross infraction to the church, Daniel.”

“I’m still settling in.”

“It’s been many months,” Samuel said. “How much settling in do you need? You been there since June. It’s now near Christmas.”

“I spoke with the bishop there, he understands,” Daniel said. “He has not pushed me.”

“You aren’t the only one who spoke with the bishop in Rose Crossing.”

Daniel eyed his father over the horse’s hindquarters. “What do you mean?”

“The ministers here spoke with him too.”

“About what?”

“You, of course.”

“How am I any of their business?”

“Daniel, such a tongue. You need more respect. Mountain air has made you bruchig.”

“Sorry, Dad, I don’t mean to be brash.”

Daniel had always shown deference to the ministers, but lately he did not care to, not after what he’d learned about Reverend Yoder, about what Aiden had revealed in his fleeting investigation. He figured Reverend Yoder was caught up in his second cousin Kyle’s death somehow. But how? He never could fit all the pieces together. Yet he believed that somehow the reverend was responsible. Each time Kyle’s horrible death skimmed across his mind, more and more, he believed Aiden had been right. Reverend Yoder had killed his own son.

How could he respect anyone like that?

“They’re only concerned with your spiritual life,” Samuel said. “They want to make sure you’re going to the gmays. The bishop there told them you keep a distance.”

Daniel’s head reeled. Did the Rose Crossing bishop know he and Aiden lived together and mention the fact to the Henry ministers? “What else did the bishop say?”

“Only that you’re an able-bodied and -minded man who should be closer to the community,” Samuel said. “They need men like you. They got many maydels looking for husbands. You keep one foot in and the other out.”

Daniel moved to Gertrude’s front and brushed her mane. The mare nickered. “I still don’t see why the ministers felt the need to contact the Rose Crossing bishop on my behalf.”

Samuel stopped his raking and peered at Daniel with fused eyebrows. His beard hung low, past his pants flap. Faint billows of steam escaped from his mouth.

“You were baptized, Daniel. How much do I have to emphasize the importance of that? You’re not some youth rumspringa.” Samuel lowered his voice, as if he worried someone might overhear, or the livestock, like the animals at baby Jesus’s birth, understood human language and might gossip about what they’d learned. “People are wondering if we should shun you or not. The ministers will want to talk with you about this. I’m warning you so you’ll be prepared.”

Dozens of prickly, cold fingers crawled up Daniel’s spine. He had anticipated a faceoff with the ministers in Henry. Yet he did not want to think about it. Now his father’s words brought the reality of a confrontation crashing against his chest.

“There’s nothing really to talk about,” he said, keeping to his curry brushing while making like his father’s words hadn’t fazed him. “Why should they want to?”

“They want to know about your commitment to the church, your life here, your life in Montana. Why you ended your engagement to Tara Hostetler only a few days before the wedding,” Samuel said. “They never got to speak with you about that when you were here last. There’s much no one knows. They ask me, and I’m unable to tell them anything. I’m in the dark too. What are your intentions, Daniel?”

“I got no intentions.”

“Listen, Daniel. You must be respectful of the ministers. Don’t be so insolent with them. I want you to answer their questions appropriately when they speak with you. I want you to listen to what they tell you.”

The chilly silence that followed cut the air more penetratingly than if they had been standing in the middle of a blizzard. Samuel’s implications were clear. A confrontation with the ministers loomed over the horizon, and Daniel had no power to stop it.

Chapter Six

“
T
HE
Millers seemed uncomfortable around me,” Aiden said as he and Daniel hiked to the inn under the canopy of a dark, moonless night. White stars peeked from behind rolling, black clouds and freckled the sapphire sky. Cold air stung his cheeks. Their visit at the farm had stretched past eight o’clock, and Aiden was tired and irritable.