The Sacrifice Read online

  She watched Smithy Gid walk back through the cornfield, holding her breath and not knowing for sure the right answer to his invitation. I’ll ask Mamma what to do, she thought and headed out the barn door.

  Leah found Mamma in the potting shed, fanning herself. “Another hot day, ain’t?”

  To this her mother nodded, and Leah began to share her uncertainty. “Smithy Gid invited me to go ridin’ with him, Mamma. What do you think ’bout that—if you were me, I mean?”

  Mamma moved the potting soil around in the earthen jar before speaking. She stopped her work and looked at Leah with a fond expression. “Seems to me if you care the least at all for him, why not see where it leads? He’s a right nice young man.”

  “ ’Tis easy to see Dat thinks so,” Leah offered. She wouldn’t ask for a comparison between Gid and Jonas; Mamma had made it known years ago how fond she was of Jonas.

  “Far as I can tell, Gid’s been sweet on you for a long time.”

  She thought on that. “Honestly there are times I think it would be fun to go somewhere with Gid, at least with another couple along.”

  Mamma’s blue eyes grew more serious, and she set about cleaning the potting soil off the wooden work counter with a hand brush and dustpan. “Sometimes I wonder if you care for Gid simply because his sister is your dearest friend. Have you ever considered that?”

  “Adah has little to do with Gid’s and my friendship,” Leah said quickly. The smithy’s son had happily befriended her during her darkest days. They had even gone walking at dusk several times, but mostly their conversations took place in the cow pasture. She worried if allowing herself to warm to his winning smile might in some way betray the depth of love she’d had for Jonas.

  “Just so Gid understands where your heart is,” Mamma said.

  Light streamed in through the windows, casting sunny beams onto the linoleum floor.

  Where your heart is . . .

  Leah sighed. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Mamma sat tall and still, her gaze intent on Leah. “I think you know, dear. Deep within you, a voice is whispering what you should or should not do.”

  “I can’t come right out and tell Smithy Gid that I don’t love him as a beau, can I? How cruel that would be.”

  “You might say instead you think of him as a close brother.”

  Knowing Gid as she did, if she revealed this truth, he might take it as a challenge to try harder still to win her. “Oh, Mamma, I don’t know what to say, honest I don’t.”

  “Then say nothing . . . until you’re sure. The Lord will give you the right words when the time comes. God holds the future in His hands . . . always remember this.”

  Mamma was as wise as any woman she knew— Mamma and Aunt Lizzie both. She thanked the Lord above for allowing her to grow up close to such women, though if she’d had her druthers, she would have preferred to know early on that Lizzie Brenneman was the woman who’d birthed her. But to dwell on this was futile.

  Mamma’s words nudged her back to the present. “Why not ask Adah how she thinks her brother might react.”

  “I’ve thought of that, but I can’t bring myself to open my mouth and say what I oughta.”

  Mamma frowned momentarily. “That’s not the Leah I know.”

  Leah forced a smile. Maybe what Mamma was trying to say was Don’t settle for a Gideon Peachey if your heart longs for a Jonas Mast.

  Still, she refused to let Mamma or anyone see the depth of bewilderment that plagued her. It was as if her feet had sprouted long tendrils, like the runners that sometimes tripped her in the berry patch, making it impossible to move forward, tangling her way, keeping her from progressing on the path of her life.

  “Are you afraid I’ll never marry . . . if I pass up Gid’s affection?” she asked suddenly.

  “Not afraid, really,” Mamma replied. “Just awful sorry if you’re not happy in your choice of a husband. ’Tis better to be a contented maidel—like your aunt Lizzie—than a miserable wife, ya know.”

  Leah had heard similar remarks at the quilting frolics she and her twin sisters attended with Mamma; seemed there was an overabundance of spontaneous advice from the women folk nowadays. But the overall bent of Amish life, at least for a woman, was to marry and have a large family. Anything less was a departure from what the People expected.

  All of a sudden she felt overcome with fatigue. The potting shed had trapped the hot air, and she longed for the cool mossy green of the shaded front yard.

  Politely she offered to help Mamma with the rest of her planting, but her mother shook her head.

  “Go and have yourself some time alone,” she said. “Goodness knows, you must need a rest.”

  Leah kissed Mamma’s cheek and walked around the southeast side of the house, admiring the clear pink hydrangea bushes flourishing there. She sat on the ground and rested in the shadow of an ancient maple, daydreaming that Jonas had never, ever left Gobbler’s Knob for his carpentry apprenticeship in Ohio.

  Everything would be so different now. . . .

  Yet she refused to give in to her emotions. Something as innocent as a daydream was wrong, she knew. Jonas belonged to Sadie now, and she to him.

  “God holds the future in His hands.” Mamma’s confident words echoed in her mind.

  Mosquitoes began to bite her ankles, and the sound of the noontime dinner bell prompted her to rouse herself and paste on yet another pleasant face. Leah rose and trudged toward the house.

  Chapter Two

  Sunday evening the air was so fresh and sweet it was hard for Mary Ruth to imagine a better place to be on such a fine night. She rode next to Hannah down Georgetown Road in the family buggy, chattering on the way to the singing. Once again, Aunt Lizzie had offered to drive, drop them off, and return home with the carriage, since there were no brothers to do the favor. Ever since February, when they turned sixteen and became eligible to attend Sunday singings, Lizzie had been kind—even eager—to drive them.

  It had crossed Mary Ruth’s mind to ask Leah to take them to the singing, but with Leah past her rumschpringe and a baptized church member, she was no longer expected to go to the barn singings, though she was welcome if she desired to, since she was still single. Mary Ruth couldn’t help but wonder if Leah might have an awful slim chance of marrying now, unless, of course, she succumbed to Smithy Gid. Mary Ruth felt sure Leah was still in mourning for Jonas, despite that everlasting smile of hers; her sister’s cheerful mood didn’t fool Mary Ruth one bit.

  All in all, Aunt Lizzie was a much better choice for taking them to singings. One thing annoyed Mary Ruth, though—their aunt seemed a little too interested in who rode home with whom. Especially here lately, since the Stoltzfus boys had been bringing the twins home long past midnight every other Saturday. The grown-ups in the house were supposed to play dumb; the age-old custom of turning a deaf ear and a blind eye.

  “Do you think Ezra and Elias will bring only one courting buggy to singin’ again?” Mary Ruth whispered to her twin, eyes wide with anticipation. “It’s such fun double courting, ain’t so?”

  To this Hannah smiled, shrugging her shoulder and looking nervously at Aunt Lizzie.

  Hundreds of lightning bugs blinked over the cornfield like stars fallen glittery white from the heavens as the carriage headed downhill toward Grasshopper Level. A lone doe crept out at dusk and stood on the edge of the woods and watched them pass, as though hesitant to cross a road just claimed by a spirited steed.

  “Elias has eyes only for you,” Hannah whispered back. “If ya didn’t know already.”

  Mary Ruth reached for her sister’s hand and squeezed it. “I should say the same for you ’bout Ezra.”

  Aunt Lizzie turned her head just then and smiled. “What’re you two twittering about?”

  “Ach, best not to say, Aendi,” Mary Ruth said quickly.

  “Well, s’posin’ I try ’n’ guess,” Aunt Lizzie taunted jovially, wispy strands of her dark hair loose at the brow.

  M
ary Ruth frowned. “Let’s talk ’bout something else.”

  Their aunt caught on and clammed up, and that was that. Truth was, neither Mary Ruth nor Hannah felt comfortable telling Lizzie that the Stoltzfus boys were ever so fond of them. Since Ezra and Elias were less than a year and a half apart, it was fascinating they should be double-courting. “It’s almost like we’re going ‘for steady’ with twin boys, they’re so close in age,” Mary Ruth had declared to Hannah in the privacy of their bedroom last week.

  “Not only that, but if we end up married . . . our children will be double cousins.” Shy Hannah’s pretty brown eyes had danced at that.

  Yesterday afternoon, while stemming strawberries and, later, picking peas, Mamma had hinted she’d heard only a single buggy bringing her dear girls home here lately. Which, of course, could mean just one thing: the boys were either the best of friends and using the same open buggy . . . or they were brothers.

  Naturally, with the secrecy surrounding the courting years, their mother knew better than to mention much else. Yet she’d said it with a most mischievous smile and out of earshot of Dat. At the time Mary Ruth had noticed how pretty Mamma looked, her face beaming with joy. Was it because she was with child once again? The women folk often whispered at canning bees and such that a woman in the family way had “a certain glow.”

  Or . . . maybe it had more to do with Mary Ruth showing an interest in a nice Amish boy; maybe that’s what made Mamma smile these days. If so, then surely their mother wasn’t nearly as worried as she had been at the end of the twins’ eighth grade, a full year ago. The evening of graduation from the Georgetown School, Mary Ruth had out-and-out declared, “I want to attend high school next year!”

  However, the very next day Dat had surprised her by taking her aside and talking mighty straight. “Hold your horses now, Mary Ruth.” He’d asked her to wait until her rumschpringe to decide such a thing, so this past year she had continued to work three days a week for their Mennonite neighbor, Dottie Nolt, doing light housekeeping and occasional baby-sitting for the Nolts’ adopted son, Carl. Along with that, she helped Mamma, as did Hannah and Leah, tending to the family and charity gardens, cleaning house, keeping track of busy Lydiann, and attending quilting frolics. Now that she was courting age, she was also going to Sunday singings with Hannah, who was taking baptismal instruction without her—a terrible sore spot between them.

  Since she was “running around” now, Mary Ruth was able to openly read for pleasure, as well as study books at home, but the novelty of getting together with other Plain young people, especially fine-looking boys, had tempered her intense craving for escape into the world of English characters and settings. If she wanted to experience the modern world, she didn’t have to rely on fiction any longer. Besides, it was great fun spending time with Elias Stoltzfus, who was as much a free spirit as she, within the confines of the Plain community, of course. She loved riding in his open courting buggy through Strasburg and the outskirts of Lancaster, soaring fast as they could through the dark night—though always in the company of Hannah and Ezra.

  “How’s Dottie Nolt these days . . . and her little one?” Aunt Lizzie asked unexpectedly.

  “Carl moves right quick round the house. Dottie has to watch him awful close,” Mary Ruth readily replied.

  “I ’spect so. He’s what—two now?”

  She nodded. “A delightful child, but he’s definitely on the go.”

  The horse turned off the road and headed down a long dirt lane, coming up on the old clapboard farmhouse. Aunt Lizzie pulled on the reins, and the carriage came to a stop. “Well, it certainly looks like a nice gathering of young folks.”

  Mary Ruth was happy to see the big turnout. What a wonderful-good night for a barn singing, not to mention the ride afterward under the stars with Elias. “Come along, Hannah.” She hopped down out of the carriage. “Denki, Aunt Lizzie!” she called over her shoulder.

  “Don’t worry a smidgen ’bout us,” Hannah said more softly to Lizzie.

  Mary Ruth waited for Hannah to catch up, and then they walked together toward the two-story bank barn in their for-good blue dresses and long black aprons. “Why’d you say that?” asked Mary Ruth. “Do you really think Lizzie worries?”

  “Well, I ’spect Mamma does, so I wouldn’t be surprised if Aunt Lizzie does, too.”

  “They ought to know how nice the Stoltzfus family is,” Mary Ruth spoke up in defense of Ezra and Elias. “Everybody does.”

  “Jah . . . but our eldest sister’s wild rumschpringe days must surely haunt Mamma.”

  “Our sister was ever so foolish,” Mary Ruth said, being careful not to mention Sadie’s name outright. They had been forbidden to do so by Dat and the bishop following the Bann.

  “Foolish, jah. And downright dreadful . . . stealing Leah’s beau.”

  Mary Ruth didn’t want to worry herself over things that couldn’t be changed. She was caught up in the excitement of the moment and tried hard not to gawk at the many courting buggies lined up in the side yard. Which one belongs to Elias? she wondered, a thrill of delight rushing up her spine.

  Abram sat next to Ida on the front porch swing, watching the stars come out. He also noticed the lightning bugs were more plentiful than in recent summers, maybe due to frequent afternoon showers. “’Twas right kind of Leah to settle Lydiann in for the night,” he said.

  Ida nodded, sighing audibly. “Jah . . . even though she’s as tuckered out as I am, prob’ly. She’s such a dear . . . our Leah.”

  “That, she is.”

  Ida leaned her head gently on his shoulder. At last she said, “We did the right thing treatin’ her as our very own all these years.”

  Hearing his wife speak of their great fondness for Leah made him realize anew that his own affection for Lizzie’s birth daughter was as strong as if Ida had given birth to her. For a moment he was overcome with a rare sadness and remained silent.

  Their flesh-and-blood Sadie was a different story altogether. Her defiance in not returning home after all this time had stirred up more alarm in him than he cared to voice to beloved Ida.

  “The Good Lord’s hand rests tenderly on us all,” Ida said softly, as if somehow tuned in to his thoughts. “I daresay we’d be in an awful pickle otherwise.”

  He had to smile at that and reached over to cup her face in his callused hand. Sweet Ida . . . always thinking of the Lord God heavenly Father as if He were her own very close friend.

  “Where do you think our twins are tonight?” He stared at the seemingly endless cornfield to the east of the house, over toward smithy Peachey’s place.

  “Don’tcha mean whom the girls are with?”

  He let out a kindly grunt; Ida could read him like a book. She continued. “Deacon’s wife told me in so many words that two of her sons are spending quite a lot of time with Hannah and Mary Ruth.”

  “Which boys . . . surely not the older ones?”

  “I’m thinkin’ it must be Ezra and Elias.” Ida snuggled closer.

  “A right fine match, if I say so myself. I best be givin’ my approval to Deacon here ’fore long.”

  He heard the small laugh escape Ida’s lips. “Best not get in the way, Abram. Let nature take its course.”

  “I s’pose you’re thinkin’ I shouldn’t have interfered with Jonas and Leah back when.”

  Ida sat up quickly and looked at him, her plump hands knit into a clasp in her wide lap. “Leah would be happily married by now if you hadn’t held out for Smithy Gid.”

  “Are ya blamin’ me for what went wrong?” he said.

  Ida pushed her feet hard against the porch floor, making the swing move too fast for his liking. When she spoke at last, her voice trembled. “None of us truly knows what caused their breakup.”

  He inhaled and held his breath. Ida didn’t know what had caused the rift between Jonas and Leah, but he knew and all too well. Abram himself had gotten things stirred up but good by raising the troublesome issue of Leah’s parentage with
Jonas. He had never told her that, at Peter Mast’s urging, he’d put Jonas to a fiery test of truth, revealing Lizzie’s carefully guarded secret. When all was said and done, Jonas had failed it miserably. “Best leave well enough alone. Jonas is married to our eldest now.”

  “Jah, and worse things have happened,” Ida whispered, tears in her eyes. “But I miss her something awful.”

  Abram didn’t own up to the same. “What’s done is done,” he said. “Thing is we’ve got us a son-in-law we may never lay eyes on again. Could be a grandchild by now, too.”

  “All because our daughter was bent on her own way. . . .”

  He leaned back in the swing and said no more. At times an uncanny feeling gnawed at him, made him wonder if Ida—who seemed to know more about Sadie than he did—might’ve disregarded the bishop and read a few of their eldest’s early letters, after the law was laid down about returning them unopened.

  But no, now was not the appropriate time to speculate on that. Clearly Ida needed his wholehearted companionship and understanding this night.

  Chapter Three

  Hannah was surprised how warm the night was, with little or no breeze. Her eyes kept straying toward the moon, and she was grateful for the hush of the evening hour, especially after having sung so robustly. Now she sat eating ice cream in the front seat of the open carriage with Ezra Stoltzfus, who wore a constant if not contagious smile.

  She hoped Elias was not able to wrestle the reins away from Ezra tonight. It seemed both boys liked to trade off sitting in the driver’s seat of the shiny new carriage. In fact, she was fairly sure they were actually sharing ownership of the courting buggy, though she’d never heard of this done in other families with many sons. As keenly interested as the deacon’s boys had been in Mary Ruth and herself for the past several years, it was no wonder Ezra and Elias might share a single buggy now that the foursome were courting age.

  Hannah’s heart leaped with excitement. She was truly fond of auburn-haired Ezra, but more than that, she was most happy to see Mary Ruth putting aside her dream of becoming a schoolteacher. At least it appeared to be so in the presence of her dashing young beau. If Elias was the reason for Mary Ruth to set aside her perilous goal, then all was well and good and Hannah could simply use the money she’d saved from selling handiwork for something else altogether. If Mary Ruth didn’t end up needing the money for future college expenses, maybe several pretty wedding quilts would do.