The Betrayal Page 9
Dat gave her a long look before continuing. ‘‘If you love Jonas as much as you seem to, then can you find a way to get yourself out there? I won’t be givin’ you the money to ride a train or bus all the way to Ohio, just so you know.’’
Joyful tears sprang to her eyes. ‘‘Oh, I can’t thank you enough!’’ Leah reached over and hugged his arm tightly. ‘‘I promise ya won’t regret this.’’
Her father clasped her hand tight for a moment before they parted. Then, still grinning, Leah ran to tell Mamma the amazing news.
Chapter Eleven
At noon Mamma suggested the girls enjoy a long lunch break from their work. ‘‘We all need a bit of time off,’’ she announced at the table.
Leah and the twins agreed, welcoming the idea with nods of the head. Sadie, however, went right back outside as if she hadn’t heard.
Standing in the doorway, hand on the screen door, Leah watched Sadie work the soil. She’s punishing herself out in that sun. . . .
Was now the time to approach Sadie? Such a ticklish position Naomi had put her in. Just how would Sadie react to Naomi’s threat?
Sadie worked the hoe, all bent over, Leah noticed, making deep furrows in the vegetable rows to assist their handwatering efforts. Some much-needed rain had come recently, but all through July and this far into August they’d supplemented by pumping well water up to the holding tank and using hoses in the garden. With constant care the girls had practically salvaged the entire celery crop. A sign of gut things to come, thought Leah.
Awful tired herself and wishing she could heed Mamma’s suggestion to rest up, Leah opened the back door and stepped out. There was not a breath of wind to be felt, and the birds were silent. Uncanny, to be sure.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped past the narrow swath of red-and-white petunias lining the cement walkway on the right. Dat could be heard clear off in the cornfield, talking to either Gid or the smithy. The peculiar stillness gave Leah a sense of renewed courage, as if the earth were holding its breath along with her. Best talk to Sadie right now, she told herself, thinking again of Naomi’s ominous warning.
Turning at the end of the whitewashed fence, she made her way to the family vegetable garden. Sadie was as pretty as ever, her golden hair shimmering in the sunlight through her white prayer bonnet. Leah was struck with the notion Sadie could pass for a heavenly messenger—an angel—so fragile and lovely she looked.
‘‘Sister,’’ she called softly, ‘‘why aren’t you inside takin’ a breather?’’
‘‘Don’t need any time off’’ came the terse reply.
Leah didn’t care to dispute that; no need starting another quarrel. ‘‘I saw you out here and thought maybe we could have us a quick chat.’’
‘‘Seems you’re the one who’s most eager to talk.’’
Right away she felt put off by Sadie’s remark, yet Leah rejected the urge to respond in kind. ‘‘I was hopin’ we could discuss somethin’ . . . without fussin’ this time.’’
‘‘All depends.’’
Leah reckoned if she brought up Naomi just now, Sadie might let out a holler. She wouldn’t put it past Sadie, not the way her emotions had run unchecked lately. ‘‘Have you given any more thought to, well . . . what we talked ’bout before?’’
‘‘Don’t mince words, Leah. Say what you mean.’’
‘‘All right, then. Isn’t it time . . . I mean, don’t you feel you should unburden your heart to Mamma, at least?’’
Sadie scowled.
Leah crouched down in the small irrigation ditch between the rows. ‘‘Honestly, Sadie, I’m scared someone else might know the truth—besides Aunt Lizzie and me—and report you to Preacher Yoder.’’
Sadie raised her voice, blue eyes glistening. ‘‘So . . . did you go an’ tell?’’
‘‘Actually, Naomi told me a thing or two. She’s decided to make a stand for virtue and hopes you’ll repent. And mighty quick.’’
‘‘Naomi has nothin’ on me.’’
Leah whispered, ‘‘She didn’t know you were in the family way?’’
Sadie shook her head. ‘‘Only that I kept seein’ Derry after my baptism, is all.’’
‘‘Even so, I’m as worried for you as Naomi is. Unconfessed sin is treacherous.’’ She remembered the Scripture Jonas had written in his last letter. Beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord . . . If only she could share that just now, but her sister’s heart was closed up; Leah knew by the hard look of frustration on Sadie’s face.
Sadie rose and shoved the hoe deep into the ground. ‘‘I don’t care anymore what happens to me.’’
‘‘You’re upset, that’s all. You don’t mean it.’’
‘‘Oh, but I do.’’
‘‘Sadie . . . sister, don’t you want to obey the vows you made to the church . . . to God?’’
‘‘Don’t fret over me. The covenant I made was false.’’
‘‘I fear that’s even worse.’’
‘‘Let God be the judge of that.’’
Leah felt the breath go out of her. ‘‘I can’t stand by and watch the brethren put the Bann on you. Oh, Sadie . . . I won’t!’’
‘‘How are you goin’ to stop them?’’
‘‘By pesterin’ you till you agree to do what is right. Wouldn’t you do the same if the tables were turned?Wouldn’t you shake me but gut . . . help me see the error of my ways?’’
‘‘You’re not me. Be ever so glad. . . .’’ She was quiet for a time, poking at the dirt with her toe. Then she said, ‘‘I’m countin’ on you to keep your promise about my baby. Naomi thinks she has something to confess ’bout me, but it’s you— and Aunt Lizzie—who know the worst of it.’’
Leah wished once more she’d never made her covenant with Sadie.
Again she opened her mouth and tried to explain her sense of urgency. ‘‘Naomi insists she wants to present herself to the Lord God without spot or blemish so she can partake in holy baptism.’’
‘‘Am I s’posed to believe Naomi’s motives are pure?’’ Sadie laughed bitterly. ‘‘You should’ve seen her with them English fellas.’’
‘‘But Naomi’s sins have been forgiven. She’s put her wild days behind her.’’
‘‘ ’Tis hard to believe.’’
‘‘She hopes the same for you, sister,’’ Leah whispered. ‘‘I know this for truth.’’
‘‘Naomi can’t save me . . . neither can Preacher. No one can. Don’t you see? It’s too late for me. . . .’’ Sadie began to cry.
Glancing at the house, Leah hoped Mamma or the twins weren’t witnessing this exchange. Tears sprang to her own eyes and she reached a desperate hand toward Sadie. Tall and stiff, Sadie remained aloof. ‘‘If I could take away your sadness and pain—all of it—even repent and bend my knee in your stead, I surely would,’’ Leah said soft and slow.
‘‘The People would set me up as an example. I’d rather be dead . . . like my baby boy.’’ Sadie covered her face with her slender white hands, her shoulders rising and falling with the sobs.
Her heart breaking for her sister, Leah pressed on. ‘‘Won’tcha please talk to Dat and Mamma? They’ll help you sort things out, help make things right with the church. Otherwise, Naomi will go an’ talk to Preacher and his wife . . . in one month.’’
Sadie’s hands flew up. ‘‘I won’t . . . I can’t, don’t you see?’’ ‘‘The People will not withhold forgiveness. So . . . why not confess?’’
‘‘Because I . . . I can’t forgive myself, that’s why’’ came the sorrowful reply. Sadie wrapped her arms round her own slender waist.
‘‘Oh, Sadie . . .’’
‘‘One thing I would ask of Jehovah God if I could . . . and that would be to turn back time.’’
‘‘Before your rumschpringe?’’ She hoped that’s what Sadie meant.
‘‘You’re mistaken. I wouldn’t trade those weeks and months, even though at times I loathe Derry for what happened.’’ Sadie’s tears spilled over he
r silky cheeks. ‘‘What I want more than anything is to hold my baby again . . . to bring my precious little one back from the dead. I have no right to seek God’s forgiveness, don’t you see?’’ Sadie turned abruptly and picked up the hoe, sniffling.
Astonished and pained by Sadie’s words, Leah grasped a greater depth of her sister’s agony. Sadie both despised and adored her former beau, and the departed baby was the only significant result of the forbidden union. No wonder Sadie was so terribly distressed.
‘‘I’m thinkin’ only of you, dear sister,’’ Leah said softly.
‘‘Haven’t you done enough? You gave up your summer in Ohio for me.’’
‘‘Isn’t that what sisters do? Even if the People should shun you, which won’t happen—will it?—you and I are sisters for always. Nothing can break that bond.’’
Sadie’s expression softened. She leaned on the hoe, nodding. ‘‘But you mustn’t try to carry the sorrow; it’s mine alone.’’
‘‘You know I’d do anything for you. Ev’ry night I pray for the balm of Gilead to soothe your poor, sad soul.’’ Leah went to Sadie then, and Sadie received her as both girls fell into each other’s arms.
‘‘I’ll think on what you said,’’ Sadie said through her tears. ‘‘I’ll think hard about confessin’. Honest, I will.’’
The flood tide was released. Leah wept in Sadie’s arms for at least this glimmer of hope.
On the way out to the cornfield, carrying a tall Thermos of iced tea, Hannah heard Sadie and Leah talking in the vegetable garden. And of all things, it sounded like someone was weeping! Well, what the world? She turned to look over her shoulder and saw Leah standing near Sadie there between the rows, looking as if she, too, might be crying.
The sound of her sisters’ sadness faded as Hannah distanced herself from the family garden and walked barefoot toward Dat in the field. The corn should have been knee-high by early in July. Sadly, much of it was only a little more than that tall now because of the long dry spell. Though, situated in a lower section of the field, a two-acre clump was thriving due to underground springs.
She turned to glance back at Sadie and Leah once more and decided not to vex herself about her sisters. She had enough to think on. For one, the secret stash of money she’d hidden away. She had no idea what would happen if Dat discovered she was planning to assist Mary Ruth in her quest for education, in spite of her own misgivings. With all the books piled up under their bed, she’d have to make sure no one but Mary Ruth helped move it away from the wall during early fall housecleaning!
Soon she was within earshot of Dat and the smithy Peachey. ‘‘Short of talking again to Gid, I have no idea where to go from here,’’ the smithy was saying.
‘‘I’ve done all I can and then some,’’ Dat replied. ‘‘But let’s not give up just yet.’’
Hannah called to her father. What an awkward situation. She hoped he might hear her and cease his discussion with the smithy.
Dat’s expression changed when he saw Hannah and the Thermos. ‘‘Hullo!’’ he greeted her, shielding his eyes with one hand and waving big as you please with the other.
‘‘Mamma sent some nice, cold tea—honey sweetened and sun brewed,’’ she said, feeling the need to explain why she’d intruded on them.
‘‘Denki, Hannah.’’ He reached for the Thermos, exchanging glances with smithy Peachey, and right away he offered the cold drink to his neighbor and lifetime friend.
She turned to hurry back toward the house. The hillside was draped in purple clover, and in the sunlight the hue was at once as deep as it was radiant. She and Mary Ruth had often gone and rolled in the clover as little girls. Truth was, they still did sometimes at dusk when no one could see they were, indeed, still youngsters inside. But this day they wouldn’t relax that way. She and Mary Ruth had an overabundance of chores to accomplish before supper, what with the garden bursting its vines with produce and the vegetable stand needing tending to. On top of that, Mamma had come to rely on both Hannah and Leah to spell her off with baby Lydiann. Mary Ruth wasn’t much of a choice, though, since with someone else’s house to look after, she wasn’t around every day of the week. As for Sadie, she wasn’t much of a sister or a nursemaid, neither one. Hannah had been writing down her thoughts about her surly sister on the lined pages of her diary, so perturbed she was at Sadie sometimes. And she wasn’t the only one.
Just this morning when she was helping run the clothes through the wringer, Mamma had said she thought it might be wise for Sadie to go live with Aunt Lizzie for a spell, ‘‘till she gets herself straightened out some.’’
Hannah was stunned—such strong words falling from Mamma’s lips. But when Mamma asked what she thought of that, the best Hannah could say was—‘‘Ain’t ever wanted any of my sisters livin’ out from under Dat’s roof. Not just yet.’’
‘‘Well, I daresay none of them has ever had such a defiant streak.’’ Mamma had frowned and shook her head. Clearly aggravated, she groaned a bit as she bent down to hoist the wicker hamper filled with damp clothing. She carried it out to the yard without even asking Hannah to lift a finger to help.
The two of them hung the clothes on the wash line, and all the while Hannah wished she might have had the wit to say something right quick—even important—like Mary Ruth would have for sure if she’d been there helping Mamma. Her twin was never shy about speaking her mind.
Sometimes Hannah was convinced Mary Ruth had gotten all the gumption. Come to think of it, maybe a problem ran in the family when it came to twins. After all, Cousin Fannie Mast had written Mamma recently saying one of their twins was behind the other in growth and development. But wasn’t it a little silly to think just because you were a twin, one of you might have gotten greedy in the womb with the nourishment? Mary Ruth had never been a stingy sort of girl, in or out of their mother’s belly. What’s more, Mamma had always said they’d each weighed the same, and both had walked and talked on the exact same day.
Hannah decided that more than likely she was bashful by nature, not slow in her thinking, and her hesitancy wasn’t the result of being a twin. And she felt she had at least one small gift from the Almighty. Though she would never think of boasting, she believed she had a right nice way of writing down words and phrases. Her diary was living proof.
Nearing the side yard, Hannah raised her head to look again toward the big garden, wondering if Sadie and Leah had talked out their problems. But her sisters were nowhere to be seen.
Chapter Twelve
Later that afternoon Leah hitched the slow horse to the family buggy, then returned to the house and helped Dawdi John limp across the walk. She still couldn’t get over Dat having given her the go-ahead to spend a full month in Ohio, however reluctantly. Jonas would be mighty surprised and pleased, and this could go a long way toward bettering the relationship between her future husband and Dat. Now if she could just get together the money for her train ticket.
The sun hid behind a cloud as she and Dawdi rode toward the small medical clinic. Dawdi had complained all last week of his worsening hip, so Mamma had stopped in at Dr. Schwartz’s last Friday on her way back from Strasburg and made an appointment.
More than happy to take her grandfather to see the doctor, Leah was equally glad for a bit of quietude—Dawdi being a peaceable man even when seriously ailing. Goodness knew, she needed a breather, and she felt herself relax some while she held the reins, letting the horse do the hard work. Such troubling things Sadie had blurted to her out in the garden. Seemed, though, there might be a ray of hope for Sadie to confess. Truly, her sister’s heart was broken and bleeding.
After their private talk Sadie had gone inside and created a fuss, all because Mamma had suggested Sadie take herself upstairs and lie down. ‘‘You look so hot in the face,’’ Mamma had said sweetly, offering a concerned smile, no doubt noticing Sadie’s swollen eyes.
‘‘I’m all right, really,’’ Sadie replied.
‘‘Just thought a rest might
do you good.’’
Then Sadie burst out crying. ‘‘I’ll go out to the pasture if you say to—coax all the cows home for milkin’—do Leah’s chores, but I won’t be resting!’’
Both Hannah and Mamma gasped, though Mamma the louder. ‘‘Such foolish words, Sadie dear. Time you behave like a baptized church member . . . and bite your tongue.’’
Sadie brushed her tears away, standing there silent now.
‘‘You best go to your room,’’ Mamma insisted. ‘‘ ’Tis not becomin’ of you to disobey.’’
Suddenly Sadie brushed past Mamma and Leah, breaking into an all-out run. Out the back door and down the steps she went, toward the barnyard.
‘‘Go now an’ talk to Dat!’’ Mamma called after her, her face boiling red. She probably wanted to holler out in the worst way that Sadie best get inside this minute and do as she said.
But Sadie was already past the milk house and heading for the outhouse; Leah guessed she was flying off to Aunt Lizzie’s—a good place for her, in Leah’s opinion. Lizzie was the best one to calm down a distraught girl like Sadie, although Mamma might not think so.
For sure and for certain, just now Leah relished this peaceful time with Dawdi John. She looked over at him, hoping Dr. Schwartz could alleviate the severe pain, though at the moment Dawdi looked as relaxed as a sleeping baby, his head bobbing as the horse pulled them gentle and slow down the road.
‘‘I hate Gobbler’s Knob!’’ Sadie cried as she rushed into Aunt Lizzie’s kitchen. ‘‘Mamma has it in for me. I know she does!’’
Lizzie went to her. ‘‘Ach, your mamma loves you more than you know, Sadie dear.’’ She led her to the front room and sat her down, loosening Sadie’s prayer bonnet to stroke the top of her head. ‘‘You just listen here to your aunt Lizzie,’’ she whispered low, beginning to hum a slow church song from the Ausbund.
Sadie felt an awful tightness in her neck and shoulders and thought she might burst apart, so distressed she was. Now that she was here, safe and secure in Aunt Lizzie’s cozy house, she quite liked all this cooing and whatnot. Lizzie’s soft arms and gentle touch made her feel as if, just maybe, the whole world wasn’t going to fall apart.