The Secret Keeper Page 16

  “Posey’s shivering,” she told Andrew, feeling the cold seeping out of the furry pet.

  “And you must be cold, too, Jenny.” He took off his heavy outer coat and draped it gently over her, tucking the pup underneath. “Uncle Chester’s place isn’t too far from here,” he assured her. “We’ll get warmed up there before I take ya back to Uncle Samuel’s. How’s that?”

  She was shocked that Andrew would shed his coat in such cold, but it had been a long time since Jenny had felt so cared for. How could she object?

  Three buggies were parked alongside Marnie’s driveway when Jenny and Andrew arrived. The puppy had stopped crying as they hurried around to the backyard, toward the house. Jenny was anxious to take a closer look at Posey in the light of a gas lamp.

  The house was abuzz with the sounds of Deitsch and people eating. Marnie’s robust father turned and gawked at them when they entered the kitchen, which looked very much like Rebecca Lapp’s with its linoleum flooring and long trestle table and wooden benches.

  Spotting the pup, Marnie’s father nearly leaped out of his chair at the head of the table, coming quickly to greet Andrew and Jenny. But it was the pup that Chester wanted, and he reached under Posey to lift her out of Jenny’s arms.

  Tall Chester Lapp smiled and shook her hand firmly. “Denki ever so much.” His face beamed as he cradled Posey in his strong left arm. “She ain’t hurt, is she?” He looked the pup over and stroked her head. Posey’s pink tongue gave Chester’s cheek a lick, and he grinned again.

  “A happy outcome for one vivacious pup,” Marnie’s mother, Peggy, said, coming over to thank Jenny, as well. She glanced suspiciously at Andrew as he removed his coat from around Jenny’s shoulders. “Denki for your help.” She looked up at Chester. “I can’t tell ya how happy you’ve made my husband—and all of us.”

  Jenny smiled. “I’m glad Posey didn’t get stuck out in the cold all night.” Based on the reception, she felt like she’d accomplished something important here.

  “Won’t ya join us for some warm apple betty and coffee?” Peggy asked, a bright expression on her plump face.

  Andrew accepted without conferring with Jenny, which tickled her. “We’ve been walkin’ all over creation,” he told them, offering Jenny a seat at the far end of the table. “So this’ll be right gut.” He, in turn, sat across from her, on the side with his middle-aged uncles.

  In a few short minutes, they learned that everyone present had been out looking for Posey. “Till the womenfolk turned into popsicles,” Chester Lapp said, sitting back in his chair, still holding his pup with one hand. He forked up some dessert and smacked his lips. “I would guess Marnie’ll be home here fairly quick,” he said, then began introducing Jenny to his relatives.

  Peggy explained that Marnie’s younger siblings were already tucked into bed. “For school tomorrow. You’ll just have to come another time and meet them.”

  Jenny said she would enjoy that. But it was the delighted expression on Andrew’s face whenever he looked her way that stayed in Jenny’s mind long after Andrew drove her home in a borrowed carriage.

  When Jenny slipped in the Lapps’ back door, she was surprised to see Rebecca still up, lifting a pie from the oven.

  Straightening, Rebecca said, “You’ve been gone a gut while.”

  Jenny realized the late-night baking was probably an excuse to be there when she arrived. She explained she’d gone to help Andrew look for Chester Lapp’s dog, Posey.

  “Ah, that silly pup—he’s gone head over heels over her.” Rebecca seemed to know.

  “That’s the one.” She said they’d found Posey and taken her home.

  “You must’ve seen Marnie, then?”

  She didn’t think she should reveal that Marnie had just been coming home in a van from a date. “Right as I was heading back here,” she said vaguely.

  “You two are getting along nicely, ain’t so?”

  Jenny nodded and said they were. “Say, I was wondering . . . did I happen to get any mail earlier?” It had been a while since she’d written to her parents, but Jenny wasn’t certain they would actually write, especially when her mother had sent Dorie and Pamela after her. All the same, she could hope.

  “No letters that I’ve seen.” Rebecca placed the pie on a cooling rack and moved to the sink to wash her hands. “Are ya lookin’ for something in particular?”

  Jenny shrugged, not saying more. Her mind was overflowing with many pleasant things—she wanted to savor the evening rather than lose herself in small talk. She excused herself, eager to go upstairs and write in her journal.

  ———

  Okay, this may sound earthshaking, but I think I might be falling in love again. The trick is that before I can be of real interest to anyone here in Hickory Hollow—including the very likeable Andrew Lapp—I must first be baptized into the church. At least, before I can be courted officially.

  On the buggy ride back to Samuel Lapp’s farm, would you believe that it began to snow softly, just like in the movies? I sat on the left side of the seat and watched Andrew handle the horse out of the corner of my eyes. We had several heavy woolen lap blankets tucked around us to keep us warm. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it. Something more ethereal than romantic, but I’m getting way ahead of myself!

  It was especially nice bumping into Marnie and her beau, whom she introduced to Andrew and me, although she was a little reticent about doing so, there at the end of her father’s lane. Marnie’s eyebrows soared when she saw Andrew at the reins and me sitting in the buggy with him.

  All in all, it’s been an incredibly interesting day. If only it didn’t have to end!

  Now I need to get myself settled down after that coffee—don’t I know better than to have caffeine so late? Time to read my Bible and pray for God’s guidance. And to sleep . . . if I can!

  Marnie felt it coming.

  “You know better than to let the puppy out of the utility room,” her father scolded, raising his voice even as Marnie’s uncles and aunts were out on the back porch saying their good-byes to Mamm. “What were ya thinkin’, daughter?”

  “I’ll be more careful,” she replied with a slight bow of her head.

  “You’d better be,” her father muttered, heading toward the stairs.

  “I really am sorry, Daed.” She followed him.

  He kept going, ignoring her.

  Part of her heart was broken anew each time he turned his back on her—more times than she could remember to count. I’ll be more careful with your precious pet, she thought sadly. But you won’t keep me from Cousin Dan Fisher’s meetings.

  Going to the kitchen to see cute little Posey, Marnie leaned down and lifted her into her arms, then slid onto her regular spot on the hard bench. She stared at the dark sky through the window—her relatives were still talking outside. Tears threatened to spill as she snuggled with the puppy. “Nosy Posey,” she whispered. “You just had to see where I was goin’ tonight and who I was with, didn’t ya?”

  Did Daed see Roy, too?

  She worried that, because of her father’s involvement in helping to start up the Bank of Bird-in-Hand, which appealed to Plain folk, he knew many Amish farmers and businessmen over where Roy and his family lived. Still, it was far better for Daed to recognize Roy as one of the prominent, progressive Flaud family than for him to hear where Roy had taken her this most inspiring night.

  Chapter 31

  Jenny was delighted when Rebecca invited her to go along to the Bird-in-Hand Farmers Market the next morning to help tend the cash register at Groff’s Candies. The vendor, a friend of Rebecca’s, was sick at home with the flu. So it was decided that Jenny would do the financial transactions and Rebecca would help the customers find what they were looking for among the homemade fudges, nuts, dried fruits, and brittles. Jenny asked if Rebecca was going to sell some of her jams and jellies, as well.

  Rebecca shook her head. “The vendors don’t work that way,” she explained. “I’ll just
sell them at the house, like always.”

  Jenny was glad for the opportunity to get out for a good part of the day, wanting to clear her head. Today had her second-guessing why her mother hadn’t written back. Not even a Thanksgiving card, the perfect excuse to get in touch.

  Is she just waiting for me to fail . . . and return home?

  This being the day before Thanksgiving, the marketplace was packed with patrons—young and old, couples and singles, and a number of families. The air smelled of fudge and freshly popped popcorn and, around certain men, sweet-smelling pipe tobacco.

  Jenny had been told by both Rebecca and Marnie that Amish folk did not observe Thanksgiving Day, “not like the English.” Instead, the day was typically taken up with all-day weddings, one of which Samuel and Rebecca would be attending tomorrow, in honor of their niece Susannah Lapp.

  So I’ll spend the day by myself, Jenny thought, reliving the many times she and Kiersten had helped debone the turkey for their mother after dinner, always searching for the wishbone. Will I miss being there this year?

  Jenny worked nearly nonstop ringing up dozens of purchases. She didn’t bother to look for Emmalyn Lapp this time and was relieved when a few hours passed and Andrew’s sister had not appeared.

  She did notice, however, a tall, brown-haired young man who very easily could have passed for Kyle Jackson’s brother or cousin. She felt momentary surprise, then scolded herself, quite positive Kyle was nowhere near Lancaster County. He’s long gone from my life.

  Later, Ella Mae Zook and Mattie Beiler came by to say hello, each taking a small sample of homemade fudge. They stood there oohing about it, and Ella Mae’s eyes danced at the rich taste. The Wise Woman appeared to be more spunky today than the last time Jenny had seen her, and Jenny smiled as she artfully reached for another piece while Mattie was talking with Rebecca.

  “Do you know how gut this is for the arteries?” Ella Mae said with a chuckle. “’Specially if ya eat enough of it?”

  Jenny played along. “So . . . how much is enough?”

  “Oh, just let your sweet tooth decide.”

  The woman was adorable, and Jenny wished she had the opportunity to bump into her every day. “It’s fun to see you, Ella Mae. Come by anytime.” Jenny smiled at herself—she was starting to sound like Rebecca.

  “I think it’s time you dropped by for some tea again, Jenny.” Ella Mae turned things around as she was known to do. “Will ya?”

  “When I’m able to get free, sure.”

  “How ’bout tomorrow? Or are you goin’ with Samuel and Rebecca to the wedding?”

  “I haven’t been invited,” she replied, glancing at Rebecca, who was still gabbing with Mattie. “Do you know if anyone serves turkey on Thanksgiving Day around here?”

  “Only if it’s Amish roast—ya know, cooked turkey or chicken mixed with stuffing. Same as what’s served at the wedding feasts.” Ella Mae blinked her small eyes. “But now, if it’s turkey you want, I could make ya some.”

  She felt silly for saying anything. “Oh, I don’t want you to go to any work! Especially not on my account.”

  “Well, you just make sure ya come for dinner tomorrow, hear?”

  Rebecca turned away from Mattie to focus on them. “What’s this?” she said. “Did I hear you two makin’ plans?”

  “She’s comin’ for the noon meal tomorrow,” Ella Mae informed Mattie. “We’re havin’ us a Thanksgiving feast!”

  Rebecca’s eyelashes fluttered. “I beg your pardon?”

  “We can’t have the poor thing all alone on an English holiday, now, can we? She’s gonna have family back home enjoying turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy and whatnot all. The least we can do is give her some turkey roast, ain’t so?”

  Mattie shook her head, and Jenny had the impression the midwife wasn’t surprised at anything her mother proposed.

  “What can I bring to help?” Jenny asked, hoping she wouldn’t suggest a loaf of homemade bread, knowing her own track record.

  “Just yourself.” Ella Mae’s white head bobbed up and down. “Leave everything to Mattie and me.”

  Rebecca’s smile spread to her ears, and Jenny could hear her trying to squelch her snickers. “So we’ll have a feast at the wedding, and so will yous.”

  “And why not? It’s mighty close to a month since Jenny came to us. I daresay a celebration’s in order.”

  Jenny blushed.

  “Goodness’ sake, Ella Mae,” muttered Rebecca as she went over to help a customer. The young woman’s cozy red sweat suit reminded Jenny of one she’d once had, and for that single second, she missed wearing sweats.

  “There’ll be pecan pie and pumpkin, too. I know what Englischers like to eat,” Ella Mae said, her face beaming mischief. “Drop by round eleven-thirty—come hungry.”

  “Denki,” said Jenny, her mouth watering.

  Mattie went over to her mother, and the older woman reached for her arm and headed off. A few steps forward and she turned to wink at Jenny.

  She’s got something up her sleeve. Jenny was very sure.

  After supper, Jenny slipped outside under a canopy of stars. She had missed her peaceful prayer time at the springhouse. The night was mild, and since Rebecca wasn’t on the list of kitchen workers for the wedding tomorrow, both she and Samuel were relaxing in their rocking chairs by the heater stove in the kitchen. Jenny wanted to give the couple some time alone, especially because she’d heard them talking in an obvious code during the meal, Deitsch words and phrases mixed in with English. Unknown to them, she’d managed to piece together some of it. Evidently, the bishop and the deacon had pulled together a short list of young people who’d attended a Bible study last evening. Jenny recalled the note on the fridge at the bishop’s house. Was this talk about Dan and Katie’s meeting?

  She was glad the evening was so temperate compared to last night’s tromp through Hickory Hollow to look for Posey. She thought of the Wise Woman’s visit at market earlier and her generous invitation. Why had Ella Mae seemed to seek her out, and in front of both Mattie and Rebecca, no less? And what was all the talk about celebrating? Jenny didn’t feel she deserved it. I haven’t yet accomplished what I’ve set out to do.

  Jenny carried a lengthy mental list as she walked down the lane to the springhouse steps. She needed to pray for guidance. She no longer had the confidence of her first days at the Lapps’, uncertain she was able to do all that was needed to make her Amish dream a reality.

  Chapter 32

  Thanksgiving morning, Jenny spent the first couple of hours trying to make two loaves of bread that wouldn’t collapse like a sinkhole. Much earlier, even before breakfast, she’d gone out to groom Ol’ Molasses and narrowly missed being kicked. The day was off to quite a start.

  She had started long before Samuel and Rebecca left for the wedding to gather the ingredients, mix them, and punch down the dough. Jenny needed all the practice she could get, and while she waited for the dough to rise the second time, she sewed.

  The thought occurred to her that she might write to her mother again, or to Kiersten for the first time. But she didn’t want to appear desperate. The silence on their end was becoming deafening, but she couldn’t blame them, could she? She was the one who’d left without saying what she was up to. Neurotically guarded.

  With every stitch she made, her prayer was for wisdom in following her heart here. Jenny didn’t want to think she was second-guessing her resolve, but she knew she was. “I’m only half Amish, if that,” she whispered. “When will it register on the inside?”

  When it was time, she carefully patted the dough into the loaf pans, hoping for success. When, oh when, would it happen? If she couldn’t even make a decent loaf of bread, how would she ever manage a kitchen as an Amish wife and mother?

  If I’m fortunate enough to ever marry.

  Marnie wished to goodness her parents had reserved their criticisms for a different day. The three of them had ridden together in one buggy to Susannah Lapp’s weddi
ng earlier that morning. Her father’s sharp words on the way there had spoiled the service for her, and she’d fretted and stewed ever since. Presently, her head throbbed, and her thoughts were spinning at the revelation that someone had seen her and Roy over at Dan and Katie’s.

  And if that wasn’t enough, her father’s spy, whoever he was, recognized Roy as the son of a progressive Amish businessman. Marnie sighed, knowing she was in twice as thick a stew. “You are a very poor example to your younger siblings. Des is arig—bad!” her father had said, his face red with anger. “You must not continue seein’ that Flaud fella, and you will stay away from the Fishers’ place, too.”

  She could hardly hold her head up the rest of the morning, even when it was time to file out of the house before the wedding feast and cluster with the single girls, all of whom had serious beaus.

  How quickly things had come to a halt. And worse, the precious feelings she’d had at Cousin Katie’s must be left to flicker away. Marnie was a captive in her own home, cut off from her beloved and prohibited from following her newfound faith. What could she do?

  Suddenly, Katie’s invitation to stay with them began to look like an actual possibility . . . a place of refuge. Her mind turned around the idea again and again, but there was no easy answer.

  The crisp air felt good as Marnie stood with the other young women her age under the overhang of the stable. Her cousin Mandie glanced at her, then gave her a closer look.

  “Are you ill?” Mandie asked as they waited.

  “Do I look it?”

  Her cousin nodded her blond head. “I’ve been worried ’bout ya all mornin’, Marnie. You all right?”

  Oh, the questions! They only served to make her feel sorry for herself. “I’ll be fine,” she told Mandie, but she knew she wouldn’t. If Marnie was to submit to her father, she would be miserable the rest of her life. And if she defied him, she might lose the love of her family.