The Judgment (4 page)

Rose listened with a smile.
How quickly does sixty years of marriage pass?
She wondered how she and Silas would look or act when they were well into their eighties. Would they be as openly affectionate as Mimi and Daniel?

As they approached the house Rose spotted a stand of goldenrod, turned all but silver in the recent wet, chilly weeks, and shivered at the thought of colder weather ahead. How nice if her mother could find solace in Mattie Sue’s company.

If Hen stays put longer . . .

She really had no idea what Hen was planning, though it was certain that if Brandon and Hen parted ways for good, the ministerial brethren would want her to stay under Dat’s roof and patriarchal covering. Before matters reached that point, however, Hen would probably be advised by the bishop and his wife to do everything in her power to reconcile with her husband.

She reached for the back door and held it open while Miriam lightly thumped her cane on the linoleum as she walked into the summer kitchen, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “
Guder Mariye—
good morning—to everyone,” Miriam called, and Esther’s married sisters hurried to greet her.

Once dear white-haired Miriam was settled comfortably into a rocking chair, Rose Ann excused herself and headed upstairs to Esther’s bedroom. She was eager to see her cousin wearing her plum-colored wedding dress and full white apron. The bride was most likely finished putting all twenty-seven straight pins into her dress and apron . . . and soon to spend her final moments as a single woman with her mother. Rose couldn’t help wondering if Esther was having any second thoughts.

Rose found her cousin alone in her room, which was as neat as always. There was a newly crocheted doily on the dresser, and positioned in its center was a pretty oil lamp Rose had never seen before.
A gift from the groom?

“I’m awful jumpy, Rosie,” the bride whispered as they embraced. Her golden-blond hair was parted nice and straight down the middle and smoothed back neatly on the sides, where it twisted perfectly. Despite her nerves, Esther’s blue eyes twinkled.

Rose touched her arm. “Maybe when you catch a glimpse of John, the jitters will go away.”

A smile brightened Esther’s pretty face. “Oh jah, just the thought of my dear beau . . .” She gripped Rose’s hands. “Denki . . . ever so much.”

“He loves ya, Essie . . . just remember.”

Esther’s eyes glistened with happy tears, and she reached into her left sleeve to find an embroidered white handkerchief and pulled it out. Dabbing at the corner of her eyes, she nodded her head. “You’re right. I have nothin’ to worry about.”

Rose led her to the window, and together they peered down at the many buggies already parked along the side yard. “See all the folk coming to join in the celebration for you and John? It’s wonderful, ain’t?”

Esther looked at the sky and grimaced. “Sure hope it doesn’t rain and spoil our day.” Her breath formed a circular blur on the pane.

The dark clouds did look ready to burst open at any moment. Rose tried to distract her by pointing out the English couple coming toward the house. “You must’ve invited Donna Becker and her husband.” She’d seen them get out of their car, parked along the side of the road.

“Mamma did,” Esther said. “She knows Donna through Rachel Glick, who owns the fabric shop. Her cousin, ya know.”

“Oh, Donna’s as nice as can be. She lives neighbors to Gilbert Browning, the widower I work for Wednesday mornings.”

“Why, sure . . . I’d forgotten that.” Esther went on to say she’d heard through the grapevine that Gilbert had a special daughter named Beth. “I hear she loves comin’ to your place and seeing the foals.”

“Does she ever,” Rose agreed. “And we love havin’ her visit, too.” Rose had actually been planning something of a surprise for Beth, but she hadn’t yet breathed a word to anyone. Very soon, she planned to talk to Dat about her idea.

Esther made a little squeal of glee. “Well, lookee there!” she said, her forehead close to the window. “My cousins from Wisconsin came for the wedding. Just think, all that way!”

Rose saw a family of seven walking up the lane. “Didn’t ya know they were coming?”

“Not for certain, no.” Esther straightened and gave Rose a quick hug. “Oh, wait’ll ya meet my cousin Peter. He’s quite handsome—and fun-loving, too! I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulls a prank or two on my groom.” Her face flushed pink. “If he wasn’t my own relative, oh goodness, would I ever be smitten!”

The wind rose up at that moment, and the eaves creaked. Esther’s scrutinizing gaze lingered on her till Rose looked away. She wasn’t at all interested in Esther’s Wisconsin cousin. But since Esther hadn’t been going to Singings here lately, she most likely didn’t know of Silas Good’s recent interest in Rose. ’
Tis best to keep mum on that.

Just then, a knock came at the door, and Esther’s mother poked in her white-capped head. “Are ya ready, Essie?”

It was Rose’s hint to leave the room. “Happy wedding day,” she said with a smile.

“Denki, Rosie.” Esther’s eyes twinkled. “I’ll remember what you said.”

“All right, then,” said Rose happily as she departed the room for the stairs.

Hen sat in her small kitchen sorting through the piecework for her Double Nine Patch bed quilt, trying not to dwell on Brandon’s startling threat. Such a dreadful recourse. Had he forgotten
he’d
suggested she take some time to come here?

She wondered—was his change of mind and heart because he was weary of waiting for her return? He must be annoyed she hadn’t gotten her fill of all things Plain by now. Her husband must be at a loss, thinking,
What else can I do?

On top of all that, there was her father’s admonition to consider.
Should
Hen stick her neck out and make a private visit to Brandon? Was it possible that might still do some good?
Or might I mess things up even more than I already have?

In her distress, she looked at the assortment of colorful squares. Soon she’d be ready to lay them out on the floor. She had finished the quilted wall hanging for Mattie’s room and was pleased with the outcome. Now she imagined how this completed quilt would look and hoped that, with Mammi Sylvia’s expert help, and possibly her mother’s, too, it would turn out nicely.
Might very well be my way to sanity.

She struggled with the thought of returning home even for a few hours, let alone for good. In the weeks she had been living here, Hen had thoroughly embraced the Amish ways, as had Mattie Sue. Still, a hot homemade dinner might be a nice gesture, especially on Thanksgiving evening . . . assuming Brandon was even home. Yet, how much could a single visit accomplish?

I won’t know unless I go. . . .

Hen rose from her spot at the kitchen table and went to the window to look toward the field. The lonely old phone shanty stood a long way from the house. She could almost hear Brandon’s response. “He’ll wonder if I’m simply reacting to his note if I call,” she muttered, frustration rising as she thought about it.

She must get her emotions in check or find herself giving in to anger. Going to sit in the front room, Hen bowed her head.
Lord, our marriage is in pitiful shape.
She sighed, greatly relieved Mattie Sue was over next door with Mamm, reading a picture book.

Hen reached for her Bible and opened to the first psalm.
Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly. . . .
She paused, realizing anew that her own father was one of the wisest men she’d ever known. “With a name like Solomon,” she whispered, wondering if her father might somehow get through to Brandon. Her husband just didn’t seem to understand the comfort she found in her faith and a simpler life, nor her desire to keep Mattie Sue untainted by the world. Or was it that he didn’t care? She felt sure he was itching to hurry off to his lawyer brother.

The thought of calling Brandon made everything Hen had set out to do thus far seem for naught.
Yet should I sit idly by and allow my worldly husband to pull all the strings?

Rose stood across from her cousin Melvin as the wedding party gathered before the bishop. She observed the service with rapt attention, especially the bride and groom, who answered each of the important questions—their vows to each other—with such solemn expressions.

When the bishop placed Esther’s small hand in John’s, joy shone from the couple’s faces. The man of God encircled their clasped hands with his own during the blessing, and Rose couldn’t help wondering what Esther was feeling this very minute.

Will Silas and I be so in love on our wedding day?

She held her breath as the bishop offered the final prayer. “I desire for this couple, O Lord, a good start for their marriage, unswerving middle years . . . and a most blessed end, when one of them breathes his or her last on this earth. This I pray through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Rose felt a jumble of emotions—more anxious than ever for her own wedding—as she turned to follow Esther and John to be seated again with Melvin and the other two attendants.

Just then, she caught sight of a young woman sitting back near the kitchen with Deacon Esh’s wife. Her hair was a rich, deep brown, parted just so, and her brown eyes were bigger than Rose recalled.
Rebekah Bontrager . . .
Rose remembered her clearly despite the passage of years
.
And regardless of her Amish attire, she was anything but plain. Somewhere along the way, Rebekah had become a beautiful young woman.

From across the room, Rose offered a smile, and Rebekah nodded slightly and smiled back.

At that time, one of the several visiting ministers was asked to give a testimony commenting on the various sermon points; then several more were invited to add their remarks, as well. All of them offered good wishes to the newlyweds and extended the Lord’s blessings on their union.

Bishop Aaron motioned for Esther’s father to stand and address the People, which he appeared to do gladly. Later, though, when John’s father rose to speak, he was overcome with emotion, his voice turning husky as he thanked everyone for coming to witness his son’s and now daughter-in-law’s vows.

The bishop offered a few more words of admonition before the People turned in their seats and knelt for prayer as he read from the
Christenpflicht
. After the benediction, the gathering came to a close once the final hymn was sung in unison.

The solemnity of the celebration made Rose mindful that this marriage represented that of the Lamb of God—Christ, the Bridegroom—to His church. And she sensed great awe, even a hush, in the crowded room.

Upstairs, Esther and John gathered all the single wedding guests—both fellows and girls—into the hallway and began randomly pairing them for the feast, an age-old tradition. Until the barn Singing, much later, the assigned couples were to spend the rest of the afternoon and the evening meal together, as would each of the couples in the wedding party.

Rose was suddenly aware of the splashing sound of rain against the windowpanes. It was good the downpour had held off, not disturbing her cousin’s wedding vows or the special blessing that followed.

Leaning against the door to Esther’s bedroom, she didn’t take much interest in the usual matching-up process, knowing she was already obliged to be with Melvin Kauffman. Nice as her cousin was, he certainly wasn’t anything like her betrothed.

Esther turned to whisper something to her new husband, John, and the two of them, cute as could be—their heads close together—decided who to further match with whom.

About that time, Silas came running up the stairs, late.
Where’s he been?
Rose wondered, hoping to catch his eye. But he wasn’t looking her way, and she couldn’t for the life of her remember seeing him in the congregation during the sermons given before the wedding vows. Maybe he had been helping the hostlers, who were assigned to feed and water the many driving horses.

Now Esther was in the process of choosing Peter Riehl, her good-looking cousin, for Arie Zook’s younger sister Leah Miller. Christian Petersheim had taken a real shining to brown-eyed Leah, and Rose had seen them together at quite a few Singings during the past year or so. For these weeks since his death, Leah had worn a black dress and apron, even though she hadn’t actually been engaged to Christian, as far as Rose knew. Rose couldn’t help wondering if Leah would still be wearing black today if she weren’t at Esther’s wedding.