Authors: Mary Ellis
“She has been quoting Scripture. That is all I know. Seems they want to be the ones picking out the verses to remember.” Noah pulled the bottle away from his neck and took a swallow.
“
Jah,
she mentioned she loved reading the Good Book on her own. I guess she should’ve kept what she read to herself. But I hardly think that should warrant a shunning.” Seth set the bottle down on a rain barrel.
“They just warned her—she being new to the district and not familiar with our
Ordnung.
” Noah took another sip and set his drink down too. “The elders’ job is to keep younger people to our ways. They don’t like it when people move from elsewhere and bring their own set of rules.” Noah rocked back on his heels and pulled on his suspenders. “Boy, I hope that’s the last of the rain for a while. I’m itching to cut my hayfield and plant a crop of spelt. I’ve got seed in my barn in open bags that I need to use before it molds. Is your hay ready to cut as soon as the fields dry up?”
“
Jah,
ready to cut,” said Seth, but his mind wasn’t on hay or spelt or field corn. He was worried about Hannah and wondering why she hadn’t told him about the brethren’s visit. If they were friends as he had supposed, she should have come to him about this instead of hiding it under a rock.
“Come inside, Seth, and stop worrying yourself. I’ll bet my Elizabeth’s got supper ready to eat. You haven’t had good cookin’ till you’ve tried her chicken and biscuits.”
Seth slapped his friend on the back. “I look forward to that some other time, Noah. Right now, I’m eager to pick up Phoebe. She spent last night at Julia’s so I didn’t see her this morning. She’s not all that fond of staying anywhere overnight. But thanks just the same.”
Seth hurried to the stall holding his horse before Noah tried
to talk him into supper. He led the animal back to his buggy and hitched her faster than usual.
“
Danki
for the help, Seth,” Noah called. “And during your ride back home tonight, you can think about the chicken and biscuits you passed up.” Noah waved and walked off toward his house with more spring in his step than he’d had while they were working.
Seth drove down the driveway, tired and hungry for the second night in a row. And with a bad feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.
C
ounting to one hundred lost its calming effect when Hannah opened the kitchen door to find the floor dirty again and the sink full of dishes. Couldn’t the boys reuse the same drinking glass instead of taking another each time? But she wouldn’t say anything because she and Emma had been gone, and Julia’s hands were causing so much pain. Tomorrow, however, she would teach Leah to wash dishes instead of only drying. And she would explain to the boys that a glass could be refilled several times within the same day without dire consequences.
“Emma, fetch two jars of cauliflower for supper and then set the table,” Hannah said as she began washing the garden vegetables she’d picked that morning for a tossed salad. Green peppers, radishes, onions, and carrots added color as well as yummy nutrition to the large colander of Bibb lettuce.
“Aunt Hannah, do you think we could visit the Davis sheep farm in Charm sometime? James invited us to stop by and see their flock. They have more than a hundred and fifty head of Dorsets, Cheviots, and Suffolks, besides crossbreeds. We might learn how to do the shearing ourselves and spare the expense.” Her face was still flushed from their outing.
Hannah thought Emma would have tired of the James-the-sheep
farmer topic by now. “Mind what you’re doing, Emma. Drain off most of the liquid into the sink and then pour the jars into a saucepot.” Hannah arranged the ham slices on a cookie sheet, which she set in the oven. The ham would warm through in a hurry, and then they could eat.
Emma did as she was told but kept glancing back at her aunt. “The Davis family uses Dr. Longo for their vet too. And James said he’d like to see your recipe for an infection poultice. With a natural poultice, antibiotics wouldn’t build up in the sheep’s bloodstream and fat tissue.” The girl placed the pot of cauliflower on the stove, turned on the burner, and sat down at the table. Setting the table had apparently slipped her mind.
“Emma, the dishes and silverware, please. Your
daed
and the rest of the
kinner
are hungry, and I’m sure your
mamm
is ready to eat.” Hannah looked in the front room but found it empty. “Julia? Phoebe, Leah—dinner will be ready in ten minutes,” she called up the stairs before filling seven glasses with cold milk from the jug.
Emma wasn’t finished with her topic. “James, his brothers, and his dad do their shearing themselves. It saves a lot of money if you don’t have to bring someone to the farm. He could give us pointers while we’re there,” Emma said, placing a napkin atop each plate.
The cuff of Hannah’s dress stuck to something red and sticky on the countertop. Someone had neglected to clean up a spill this afternoon. “I’m not promising a visit to the Davis farm. We’ve got so much work to do here. Besides, I doubt we would benefit much from their advice. They use electricity in their farming operation.”
“Who uses electricity on their farm?” asked Simon. He stood in the doorway to the root cellar. His hair was stuck to his forehead and a piece of cobweb hung from his white beard.
“
Daed,
what were you hunting for in the cellar?” Emma asked, springing to her feet. She brushed the web away with one quick stroke. “I would’ve fetched it. You don’t know how things are arranged down there.”
“
Danki,
daughter. I didn’t realize there
was
organization on those shelves,” joked Simon. “Who uses electricity, Hannah?” Simon repeated.
“The Davis family that lives in Charm,” Hannah replied as she added oil and cider vinegar to the salad and put it on the table.
“We met the nicest boy today at Mrs. Dunn’s shop in Sugar Creek,” Emma added, all but clapping her hands and skipping around the room. “He was delivering a load of organic wool to A Stitch-in-Time Shoppe at the same time we were. He carried in our bags of wool and helped me fetch water for our horse. He knew right where the town’s nearest pump was.” Emma’s enjoyment of the afternoon was as obvious as an advertisement on the side of a barn.
Simon stared at his daughter and then turned to Hannah. “This Davis family that uses electricity—do they attend a New Order church in Tuscarawas County?” he asked, setting his hat on a peg.
“No,
daed,
” Emma giggled. “James’ family isn’t Amish. I believe he told me they go to the Methodist church while we were in the chocolate shop.” Emma carried the pot of cauliflower to the trivet and wiped her hands on her apron. “What else can I do, Aunt Hannah?”
“Go up and help your
mamm
down the stairs. And tell Phoebe and Leah to come now,” Simon said, his words like a rumble of thunder.
“Hannah, will you step onto the porch with me?”
Hannah turned off all burners so as not to repeat her burned-dinner performance and followed him out.
Simon rang the farm bell twice to call his sons to supper and then looked her in the eye. “You let my daughter go off to some chocolate shop with a stranger—an English stranger? Some
sheep farmer
that we know nothing about—him or his people?” Simon managed to imbue sheep farmer with a more ominous inflection than “English” or even “stranger.”
“Mrs. Dunn, the store owner I’m doing business with, vouched for him and his family,” Hannah said, crossing her arms.
“This Mrs. Dunn…you know her well?” he asked, to which Hannah remained silent. “You permitted Emma to go off alone with a boy vouched for by another stranger?”
“I let her go inside a crowded store across the street from the pharmacy I was in. She was never alone with him at any time.”
“He’s not Amish, woman. Not a good idea with Emma almost fifteen.” Simon’s face turned florid.
“They drank cups of cocoa; they didn’t walk in the moonlight!” Tiredness was draining the last of her patience.
“Do you ever think? Do you ever use good judgment? I don’t want Emma running around with English boys this close to
Rumschpringe.
”
“Did we not raise our daughter right? Do you think we can keep her from associating with English friends and neighbors, Simon?”
Simon and Hannah both jumped an inch from the porch floor. Julia had come to stand in the doorway unseen. Her spine was stooped and bent, but some of the pain had ebbed from her face.
“Julia,” Simon said. “It’s good to see you downstairs.”
“It’s good I’ve come down to intervene between you two. You might be making a mountain out of Emma drinking a cup of cocoa, husband.” She leaned into Simon’s side while he steadied her with a supportive arm. “If Hannah says there was no danger in the situation, I believe we can trust that. She would never place Emma in harm’s way.”
Hannah released her pent-up breath. Julia would shine logic and reason into the conversation.
“It’s not a question of danger, Julia. I don’t want my daughter to get into the habit of going off with English fellows. How does that look? I’m a deacon. My family is held to a higher standard of behavior, and that includes Hannah because she’s part of my household.”
Hannah thought it time to share her two cents. “I did nothing unseemly in Sugar Creek, and neither did Emma. I was delivering my load of wool to a buyer, and we met another of her regular wool suppliers.”
“Your idea of unseemly doesn’t always match mine,” Simon said, “or the ministerial brethren wouldn’t have singled you out for a warning. It’s improper for you to quote Scripture to Emma from books not approved by the bishop—yet that didn’t stop you. I overheard you with my own ears.”
“You went to the elders instead of speaking to me privately about the matter?” Hannah asked.
Julia stepped out from his protective arm. “Why would you do that, Simon?” she asked. “Why would you go to them about my sister?”
“I knew it wasn’t an isolated incident because Mrs. Lehman had mentioned it to her husband, and others had overheard her in Kidron. I thought she might listen better if it came from someone else in the district. She seems to let everything I say roll off her back without paying a bit of attention.” A vein in his neck had begun to throb.
Hannah didn’t like how she was being discussed as though she were in town having an ice cream cone. She stepped forward until she was almost nose to nose with her brother-in-law. “That’s not true. I have heard everything you’ve told me and taken your advice to heart. I would have listened to this had you come to me first. I’ve quoted no more Scripture since then and will confine the joy and comfort I find in the Good Book to myself. I will try harder to bring no further shame to your household. But I ask you not to jump to a negative conclusion every time you hear of a situation that even remotely involves me.”
Hannah felt her eyes fill with tears and didn’t want to cry with five
kinner
in the kitchen wondering where their dinner was. “Please go in to supper. Everything is ready. Emma will help serve. I would like to walk for a while and clear my head. I’ll try not to do anything unseemly in the pasture.”
Simon reached down into the tall basket next to the door. “Here, take the umbrella.” He thrust it into her hand and went back into the kitchen to his dinner, his wife leaning heavily on his arm.
Hannah walked into the mist regretting her final words. She felt petty and unkind and not filled with Christian love at the moment. The walk would do her good—maybe she would walk across the county and back. Then maybe she could be still and allow God’s will to be done.
The rain would do her good too. It might wash away her anger and pride. Simon had every right to rule his household, even if he wasn’t a deacon in the district. And dinner with Julia and the children would do him good. He’d seldom had the pleasure of time alone with them since she’d arrived.
So Hannah walked through her flock in the wet meadow and along the line of dark woods where leaves and branches sagged with moisture. On she walked near a field of green hay waiting to be cut and then between rows of knee-high corn. At times, she found herself on high ground where she could see the lamp burning in the Lehman window. Eventually she ended up by the river where tree limbs rushed and crashed along in the swift current.
Tired, wet, and hungry, Hannah turned her face to the sky when she couldn’t walk another step. “Show me the way, Lord. Have mercy on me and show me the way.” When she opened her eyes, she saw a patch of pale blue along the horizon. Growing ever wider as she watched, it promised an end to the deluge in Holmes County.
The slanting rays in that faraway clearing also promised a lifting of Hannah’s burdens. Hadn’t she been struggling to do it all on her own? Hadn’t her independence and willfulness created conflict within her family? Butting heads with her brother-in-law like two barnyard goats wasn’t why she had come to Ohio.
When the rain finally dwindled to a few drops, Hannah closed the umbrella—a good idea on Simon’s part—and opened her heart. The path, the way, would be made clear to her. She needed only to be still and listen.