The Forbidden (3 page)
Kate’s voice startled her. “Don’t fool yourself about the bishop, cousin. He’s mighty troubled . . . yet bein’ ever so lenient where Manny and Reuben—well, the whole lot of them—are concerned.” Kate coaxed a resounding burp from Eli, then another, and promptly put him on her other breast. “You must not be keepin’ up with things.”
I’m too busy for the grapevine.
If there was something Elias wanted her to be aware of, Rosanna knew he’d tell her come nightfall, when he was so dear to her once the twins were settled into their cradles. Elias was like that, always eager to share with her the things on his mind while they nestled in each other’s arms. Eager in other ways, too.
Nellie Mae took care to redd up the bakery shop following a not-so-busy Friday afternoon—less than a handful of customers the whole day. She counted the money and placed it in her pocket, thinking she’d like to slip away to the millpond behind the old White Horse Mill to ice skate. She and Caleb had gone there twice as a courting couple, so perhaps she might catch at least a glimpse of him. She hadn’t forgotten seeing him the last time she’d been there—most surprising and ever so nice, till they’d had to say good-bye.
Earlier she’d run to the mailbox, as she had every day for the past few weeks, hoping for a letter. Caleb could easily write her without anyone’s knowing if he just left off the return address.
Unless he’s ill.
The thought had not crossed her mind before now, although she hadn’t seen Caleb at any of the youth gatherings associated with Christmas. She hadn’t seen him in church on the Sunday two days before Christmas, either, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been there. The house of worship—Deacon Lapp’s farmhouse—was so packed full of folk she might simply have missed him.
“Maybe Caleb
is
under the weather.” She knew of several families who’d suffered from the flu in the past days.
Glancing around the bakery shop, she eyed the area where she envisioned putting the tables and chairs. If customers could linger and talk, they might purchase more goodies.
She wondered if she shouldn’t add sandwiches or homemade soups to the selection of items printed on the small blackboard on the wall behind the counter. But with the nix on their family by many devoted to the Old Ways now that Dat and Mamma and her sisters were attending the new church, Nellie might not get to realize her hopes of that. Besides, most folk wanted to eat next to their own fireplace on a bitterly cold day. Who could blame them?
She turned off the portable gas heater and headed for the door. Leaning into the wind, she picked her way across the snow-covered ground, aware that a substantial amount of ice lay beneath. Friday nights were skating nights at the millpond. If she could just get out of washing dishes later, she would bundle up and go.
With renewed anticipation, Nellie Mae stepped into the house and removed her boots, coat, and scarf. She fairly flung off her mittens, suppressing her giggles as she sent them flying across the summer porch.
If Caleb and I can bump into each other once, why not
again?
Delighted at the prospect, Nellie made her way into the warm kitchen for supper.
Nellie’s muscles were already stiff from the biting cold, yet she pushed onward. When she rounded the bend on Cambridge Road, she spotted Rebekah Yoder and several of her sisters there. Her heart leapt.
If they’re here, surely Caleb is, too.
Merrily she dashed across the snowy banks along the millpond, near the area where she and Caleb had once walked hand in hand. She had never been afraid of the ice, not even in late winter when the pond would begin to thaw in places. She’d always assumed she’d have more sense than to fall in.
Thinking suddenly of Suzy, Nellie realized she hadn’t followed through with her hope to find out more about what had happened the day her sister had drowned. Even though the busy days of Christmas had come and gone, she’d had no desire to go in search of Zach and Christian Yoder, two Mennonite brothers who had befriended Suzy. Nevertheless, she was still quite curious to talk to anyone who’d been with her sister on that terrible June day.
Pushing that sad thought aside, she took note of the dozen or more young people presently skating and continued to look for Caleb as she put on her skates. She dared not ask Rebekah or her sisters about him. She would mind her own business and glide out onto the large pond to skate.
The first star of the evening appeared like a pulsing dot of white light. Nellie was so taken with the icy splendor around her, she scarcely even saw Susannah Lapp until she nearly collided with her. Susannah squealed and narrowly missed falling, and Nellie skated hard to the right, trying to maintain her balance.
Ach, not her!
Quickly she chided herself. No reason to view Susan-nah as a threat any longer.
Caleb’s father is my greatest
fear now.
Nellie made another pass around the pond, this time carefully skirting the others. But the longer Nellie stayed, the colder she would be by the time she departed for home. Again she pondered Caleb’s whereabouts, and a little panic flitted through her mind: Surely he was not avoiding her.
Still she remained, determined to be on hand in case he happened to arrive late. After all, it was a perfect night for skating, and no doubt he would think so, too. The ice was hard and slick, its formerly rough surface swept smooth by the wind.
A night meant for a girl and her beau . . .
She was gaining speed again, waving and smiling at Rebekah Yoder, when she thought she saw someone standing dark and rigid against the trees on the banks of the millpond, across the way. Was it Caleb?
Not wanting to stare, Nellie forced herself onward, heart pounding with anticipation.
Elias didn’t mention Reuben Fisher at all while Rosanna lay in the crook of his arm. She waited and wondered as she thought back to the peculiar things Cousin Kate had voiced with such conviction. Were they true?
Elias
did
have something interesting to talk about between kisses. Maryann Fisher, who lived across the way with her husband, Ephram, had been home alone when her labor pangs began. Elias had stopped by to deliver some tools for Ephram, who’d gone to the town of Cains on an errand.
“Honestly, I thought I might have to help deliver Mary-ann’s baby while her four young ones looked on.”
“Oh, Elias . . . what on earth?”
“Well, I was able to send the oldest boy up the road to the community phone booth—thank the Good Lord for that—and the midwife came just in time.”
Rosanna shook her head. “Poor Maryann, she must have been terribly frightened.”
“On the contrary . . . said she’d be fine if I would watch her littlest ones, Katie and Becky.”
Rosanna couldn’t help but giggle. “You must be countin’ your blessings ’bout now.”
He chuckled. “S’posin’ if I can deliver calves, I can help bring a baby into the world.” He paused, pulling her closer. “But watching them toddlers of Maryann’s and keepin’ them out of trouble . . . now, that’s another story yet.”
Rosanna smiled up at Elias, who quit his laughing and looked at her with a familiar glint of yearning. “Let’s not be talkin’ of Ephram’s new baby, love,” he said softly, his face very near.
Let’s not talk at all.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, impatient for more of his kisses.
The shadowy figure was a man, but not one young enough to be Caleb, Nellie decided as she cast another furtive glance. He inched his way toward the pond, and she could not tell if he was watching any skater in particular. Even so, the man was clearly observing them, and his presence made her uneasy.
Who is it?
She wondered if other skaters had noticed the man. It was obvious from his appearance he was Amish. Otherwise, Nellie would have been even more concerned.
She sped twice more around the pond before stopping to wait for Rebekah on the side nearest the trees. When Rebekah spotted her and waved, heading that way, Nellie motioned her over. “Don’t look now, but there’s a man standing there . . . watching us.”
Rebekah dug in the blades of her skates, spraying ice as she came to a stop. “Oh jah, I know.” She laughed softly. “It’s my father, come to take us home . . . when we’re ready.”
Nellie felt silly. “Seeing a man there scared me.” She paused. “Well, just a little.”
“I’m not surprised.” Rebekah acted a bit sheepish. “He’s overseein’ us, I’m guessin’.”
Giving a quick squeeze of her hand, Rebekah headed off around the pond again, catching up with her sisters.
Nellie Mae was now so cold her toes were numb.
I
should head home.
She clumped to the bank, where she leaned against a tree to remove her skates, wishing for the wrought-iron bench where she and Caleb had sat and talked, his strong arms around her when she began to shiver.
But the bench was on the other side of the millstream, and she dared not try and climb down to it, not when her feet felt like clubs. She wondered if her toes were frostbitten and attempted to wiggle them beneath her thick socks as she worked on her snow boots. Then she took the long way around the stream to a footbridge, moving toward the road.
Forcing her feet forward, she looked up at the sky and at the many stars of the Milky Way, pondering the fact that while a good many of Caleb’s family were present this night, he was nowhere in sight.
Squeezing her eyes tight, she fought back tears.
I miss
you so much, Caleb.
After a time, she heard the
clip-clop
of a horse and buggy slowing down behind her.
“Nellie Mae!” Rebekah Yoder called. “Come, get in the buggy with us.”
Fatigued, she had not the strength, nor the gumption, to refuse. She turned and hobbled to the carriage. “
Denki,
ever so much.”
“Ach, Nellie, you’re limping.” Rebekah helped her inside.
“Did you hurt your foot skating?” one of Rebekah’s sisters asked from the back as Nellie settled into the front seat next to Rebekah.
David Yoder spoke up before Nellie could respond. “She’s a farm girl—she’ll be fine.” He kept his gaze toward the road.
Is he picking me up so Caleb can’t?
“I’m ever so thankful for the ride,” she managed to say, not sure how she would ever have made it home with the feeling all but gone from her feet.
Rebekah reached under the heavy woolen lap robe and squeezed her hand. “I did something like this once . . . skated too long and nearly lost a toe.”
“What’d you do?”
“Soaked my foot in cool water . . . let it warm gradually.” She paused, glancing at her father. “Your mamma will know what to do.”
Jah. Bet she’d chuckle if she knew why I went in the
first place.
Then, a moment before they crossed the one-lane bridge on Beaver Dam Road, Rebekah leaned over to whisper, “I’ll be tellin’ Caleb I saw you.”
Nellie Mae let out a gasp, her breath twirling into the air.
No question about it. She knows. . . .
Barely missing a beat, Nellie whispered back, “I’ll tell Nan I saw you, too.”
Rosanna awakened to Eli’s cries early Saturday morning. Pulling on her old chenille robe, she glanced at Elias, in deep slumber.
How does he sleep through such howling?
Hurrying now to the sitting room-turned-nursery, she bent down to pick up Eli. More than Rosie, he was typically impatient to be fed, especially after the midnight hour. She looked at peaceful Rosie and was again surprised that anyone, infant or father alike, could sleep through such hearty cries.
She gripped the stair railing with her free hand, wishing at times like this they might consider moving to the large bedroom on the first floor. Of course, that would mean having the babies sleep in the same room as they, something Elias would not want even at this tender age. She also cherished their time of lovemaking, especially this night. She’d felt quite vulnerable and ever so put out at Kate for calling herself mamma to little Eli. Couldn’t her cousin guess how Rosanna might feel about that?
Downstairs, she warmed Eli’s bottle, and when it was ready she watched as he worked his cheeks and lips. Later, when he was burped sufficiently and asleep in her arms, she climbed the stairs. Still groggy, she tucked him into his cradle, only to rouse Rosie to feed her next. Tired as she was, Rosanna treasured these nighttime feedings.
Just the
babies and me . . . and the dear Savior.
Rosie nestled her wee face into Rosanna’s bosom, which again made her wish she could suckle both babies—not just Eli, as Kate had chosen to do today. Swiftly she removed the second small bottle from the gas-powered refrigerator, shaking it before placing the bottle into a pan of water and turning on the gas stove. Elias had been wise to replace the old woodstove before the twins had come home.
“
Ballemol
—soon,” she promised Rosie as she kept an eye on the stove, making sure the bottle didn’t get too warm. Rosie burrowed her head into her once more.
Oh,
dear little one.
She wondered whether Eli and Rosie would ever fully bond with her, with her cousin constantly coming around. Did they sense, on some subconscious level, who Kate was?
When the bottle of formula was warm enough, Rosanna sat in the rocking chair, facing the window and looking at the moon—a wide fingernail in the heavens. And she prayed, asking God questions she hoped He might see fit to answer. Their good neighbor Linda sometimes expressed herself in such a way in prayer. Linda had invited her and Elias to attend a “new group” with her and her husband, Jonathan, some Sunday, and although Rosanna was intrigued, she was reluctant to mention it to Elias. But if her husband was discussing Scripture with Reuben Fisher, as Kate reported, maybe Elias wouldn’t mind if his wife started praying out loud.
Sighing, she thrilled to the intimacy between her and the daughter she had longed for as Rosie began to relax. “You’re my own little darlin’,” she whispered. “You and your brother . . .”
Thinking of the day ahead and of missing quilting bees and work frolics, Rosanna did not regret being sequestered in her home with two adorable babies. Presently it seemed she had no need for human interaction beyond that with her husband and children, though there was no chance they’d be left to themselves. The twins’ maternal grandmother, Rachel Stoltzfus, had initially come nearly as often as Kate herself, but her interest had seemingly faded in the past few days. Rosanna wondered if Kate’s keen attention might diminish over time, as well, particularly once she was no longer acting as a wet nurse.
