A Quilt for Jenna (8 page)

Jerusha tried to scream, but the man tightened his grip on her mouth. She struggled in his grasp, but he was too strong for her. She bit down on his hand as hard as she could and tasted his blood in her mouth.

“Owee! She's a spitfire!”

“Hold her. I'll quiet her down,” the first man said. He drew back his fist, but suddenly there was a
thud
, and he seemed to disappear. The second man suddenly loosened his grip on Jerusha and turned away from her. Jerusha collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. There was a series of cracking sounds, another
thud
, and then quiet. A gentle hand touched her shoulder.

“Come along, little Miss Quilter,” said a familiar voice. She looked up into Reuben Springer's face. Behind his blue eyes she saw the same smile she had seen before.

“But those men,” she gasped. “They...they wanted to...”

“They appear to be taking a little nap, so that's probably the last thing on their minds right now.”

Jerusha looked behind her and saw the two men stretched out along the path. The first one began to stir. Reuben stepped over and slapped the big man's face. His voice took on a dangerous edge as he roused the semiconscious man. “Get up, you pig, or this will be the last place you'll ever sleep.”

The big man rubbed his jaw as he slowly struggled to his knees. He looked around for a weapon. Reuben quickly stepped in with two powerful blows to his head, and the big man crumpled in a heap. He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Now, if I were you and I didn't want to spend the rest of my short life getting the stuffing whipped out of me, I'd collect your pal and hit the road,” Reuben said as he stood over the fallen man.

“Okay, okay, we're going. But I never heard of no fightin' Amish before.”

“If I ever see you in this town again,” Reuben replied, “I'll rewrite that notion on your thick skull. Now git!”

The first man stood up shakily and walked over to his friend, who was just coming to. He gave him a kick in the leg and said, “Come on. Seems we're not welcome here.”

The second man dragged himself to his feet, and the two staggered away. Reuben returned to Jerusha's side, took her arm, and helped her up.

“There now,” he said softly, “all's well.”

Jerusha looked up and stared straight into Reuben's eyes. Immediately she blushed and looked down, totally flustered by the turn of events. Her expression did not escape Reuben's notice.

“So, Miss Hershberger, do I really have that much of an effect on you?” he asked. “I must say, it's encouraging and rather flattering.”

“Well, thank you for your help,” she shot back, alternately flushing red and going pale. “But don't give yourself airs. I was just attacked, and then I watched you beat the tar out of those men. How am I supposed to react?”

“Oh, so I'm not so grand as I thought,” he said, chuckling. “Well, that's fine. As for beating the tar out of those men, I'd do it twice over if it meant your safety.”

“You're a strange sort of a pacifist,” Jerusha said. “I'm not sure the elders would agree with you.”

“Well, as you get to know me better, you might find that I have some...well, unorthodox views as far as the elders are concerned.”

“What makes you think I want to know you better?” Jerusha asked. “I don't even know you at all.”

“But I would like to know you better,” Reuben said, “and if it takes thrashing a couple of thugs to get an introduction and win your admiration, then I'll do what it takes.”

Jerusha softened. “I'm sorry. After all, you did save me from an awful fate, I'm sure.” She blushed again and then said, “I probably should be going.” She took a few tentative steps toward the village.

“Where to?” Reuben asked, falling in beside her.

Jerusha tried to bring order back to her emotions. “Well, if it's any of your business, I'm going to the store. I have to get some things and then go right home.”

She managed a glance his way and took him in. At her grandmother's funeral she had assumed he was in his teens, but now she saw that he was older, maybe twenty or twenty-one. Something about him seemed different from the boys who had tried to impress her in school or at the evening singings. He carried himself with an assurance that most of the boys lacked. She felt it both attractive and at the same time disconcerting.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” she asked quietly.

“I have an
Englisch
friend in Wooster who's in a boxing club, and he showed me a few things.”

“But we aren't supposed to be friends with the
Englisch
,” Jerusha said.

“When I turned sixteen, my
daed
looked the other way at some of the things I wanted to find out about.”

“Oh, running around,” said Jerusha. “
Rumspringa
.”

“Well, I guess that's the name for it,” Reuben answered, “but to me it's just getting to know this wide world we live in a little better.”

“Is that why you're not married?” Jerusha asked.

“That, and the fact that I've never seen a girl I was interested in,” he said. “That is, until I saw you.”

Jerusha felt a strange falling sensation take hold of her. She found nothing to say as the two walked on in silence for a moment, and then Reuben took her arm and stopped her.

“I don't want you to think me too bold, but I want to ask your permission to talk to your father. I would like to court you,” he said quietly.

Her thoughts swarmed through her head like bees, and then she heard herself say quietly, “All right, if that's what you want.”

And then she quickly turned and walked away from him toward the village.

C
HAPTER
T
EN

Troubles

W
HEN
J
ERUSHA ARRIVED HOME
, she ran straight to her room, threw herself on her bed, and tried to quiet her emotions.

Why did I tell him he could talk to
Daed
?

The events of the day flooded in on her—the attack in the woods, Reuben appearing out of nowhere to save her, the beating he gave those men, her acquiescence to his request to speak to her father. It had all happened so fast, she barely had time to think. But now, alone in her room, she couldn't help her mind from replaying it again and again.

How did Reuben happen to be there at just the right time? Was he following me? He beat those men terribly. It should have made me sick, but it didn't. Oh, Reuben, what am I supposed to do with you?

Suddenly Jerusha's life had become very complicated. Her simple childhood and the years she had spent by her grandmother's side had all seemed so easy. Family, farmwork, and quilting had been her life. Now a whole new element had been thrust upon her in the person of Reuben Springer. She turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

Late the next afternoon, Jerusha's father came in from his work. He cleaned up and then went to Jerusha's door and knocked.

“Jerusha, are you in there? I need to speak with you.”

Jerusha opened the door slowly. “What is it,
Daed
?”

“The Springer boy came to see me this morning.”

So soon!

“What did he want?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

“He wants my permission to court you,” her father said. “I told him he could not.”

Inwardly, Jerusha gave a sigh of relief. Controlling herself, she asked, “What reason did you give him?”

“The Springer boy is a pleasant young man. He is older, and my understanding is that he is a hard worker. But I have heard stories about his adventures while he has been in
rumspringa—
drinking, fighting, dancing, and other activities that cannot be mentioned. It is said that he owns a car and keeps it in a garage somewhere in Wooster and that he has traveled as far as Akron and Indianapolis dressed as an
Englischer
.”

“But many of the boys try out the things of the world during
rumspringa
,” Jerusha said. “Does that make him a bad person?”

Her father frowned. “
Nee
, but the most important reason I won't allow it is that although he is twenty-one, he has not been baptized or joined the church. This disqualifies him for marriage. I do not think he is right for you.”

Jerusha found herself rising to Reuben's defense. “But,
Daed
, Reuben was so kind to me at the funeral and he—”

“Kindness isn't the measure of a man, especially in our way of life. A man who has given his life to God through baptism and is faithful in the church is a man to be trusted. That is the sort of man I want for my daughter.”

Before she could stop herself, Jerusha blurted out a biting response. “Shouldn't I have something to say about who courts me?”

The blank look in her
daed
's eyes surprised Jerusha. The question she asked hadn't even registered. “What?” he asked.

Jerusha plucked up her courage and asked the question again. “Shouldn't I be allowed some choice as to whom I may or may not marry?”

This time she saw the anger rise her
daed
's face. “You will do as I tell you,
dochter
,” he said curtly. “This is not a decision you need to concern yourself with.” And with that he turned and walked out of the room.

A week passed, and Jerusha had become a silent guest in a quiet house. When her father asked her do something, she answered with a simple “
Ja, Daed
,” but nothing more. She did her chores and worked on her current quilt, but she withdrew herself from the family life and spent more time in her room alone. How could her
daed
, with whom she had always been so close, treat her in such a demeaning way? On the one hand she was glad she could stop thinking about Reuben and put him behind her, and yet on the other hand she was miserable because her heart ached to see him again.

Late one night she awoke to a tapping sound. Rousing herself, she went to the window. Reuben stood there with his fingers to his lips. “Come out,” he mouthed silently.