Breath of Spring (13 page)

“And Naz’reth’s lemon pudding cake!” Sara cried out ecstatically.

“Whoopie pies!” Timmy whooped. “Lotsa whoopie pies.”

No wonder the house smelled sooo good. Adam’s stomach rumbled at the kids’ roll call of the supper menu, while everyone around him laughed and opened their arms to greet the cleaned-up Knepps. Everyone except Annie Mae, who was still smiling at
him
.

“Please stay,” she whispered. “Get Matthias and come back, okay? It won’t be the same celebration without you here . . . Short Stack.”

Adam squelched the inner protest that had always protected him from getting too close when a girl appealed to him. After all, if he came back, he’d be in a roomful of people, and they’d be deciding the details of where the kids would stay. . . .

“All right, you talked me into it,” he replied as he returned her smile. “See you in a few.”

As he climbed into his wagon, Adam didn’t notice the cold seat or frown about how the snow was starting to accumulate on the roadway. What had just happened in the Hooley house? While he’d figured the good folks of Willow Ridge would find a place for the Knepp kids, he hadn’t anticipated being invited into this close-knit circle . . . sought after and commended. Annie Mae had reeled him in with her gentle insistence that she wanted nothing more to do with Yonnie, and that he, Adam Wagler, was a good man. She’d made it sound as though he
mattered
to her.

Hook, line, and sinker,
his inner voice warned.

But—for this evening, anyway—he was okay with that.

What have I gone and done? Now
Dat
’s sure to come after me!

Annie Mae willed herself to lie still, because Nellie was fast asleep beside her in the bed they shared at Bishop Tom’s. Across the room in a crib the Zooks had loaned them, Sara’s deep, even breathing made her envy the little girl’s comfort and trust. With Ben and the bishop’s help, all six of them—plus the two Hooley sisters—had relocated to this home with surprising ease and lack of fuss after supper. In the next bedroom, the three little boys had fallen asleep nearly as soon as their heads had hit the pillows, delighted that Jerusalem and Nazareth were tucking them in again. From the bedroom on her other side came a duet of snoring that told her the Hooley sisters were sleeping peacefully, as well.

No one else seemed concerned about the consequences of her actions today, yet as the clock downstairs chimed midnight . . . one o’clock . . . two . . . Annie Mae wrestled with the decisions she’d made so impulsively. Although everyone at Miriam’s had reassured her she’d done exactly the right things—and while she wouldn’t have changed her behavior one iota, after the way Delilah had treated her siblings—her sense of doom felt like a fifty-pound bag of flour lying on her chest.

And because Tom Hostetler had taken them all in, Dat would wreak havoc on the new bishop, for certain. It wouldn’t surprise her one bit if he barged in on Tom and Nazareth’s wedding ceremony this coming Thursday, just as he’d made a scene when Ben and Miriam had married. And it would surely be
her,
his errant eldest daughter, whom he snatched up off the pew bench as he hurled his accusations and angry words.

And if Yonnie Stoltzfus told Dat about their visit to his apartment, and Adam’s involvement with their escape from Higher Ground, poor Adam would suffer, as well.

Adam had been such a rock this afternoon. Was it her imagination, or had he let down his guard and warmed up to her? As she lay in the darkness, Annie Mae relived every touch of his sturdy, work-worn hands . . . every encouraging smile . . . the way he’d held her close after he’d wrapped the boys in a drop cloth to keep them warm.

Don’t get caught up with Adam,
her thoughts warned as she turned onto her other side yet again.
Why would he fall for ya now that four little kids and Nellie come as part of your package? Why would
any
fella court ya, now that you’re responsible for so many lives?

But she’d made her stand, as far as never seeing Yonnie again—with witnesses to hold her to it. Annie Mae sensed, however, that Yonnie wouldn’t accept her rejection at face value—
because he’ll walk away or come back whenever it suits him. So where does that leave
you
?

Annie Mae frowned in the darkness. Why had she not seen this trait in Yonnie before? Years she’d known him, yet their times together had been carefree and adventurous and—

That’s because ya didn’t cross him. He said
jump
and ya always said
how high
?

Annie Mae rose from the bed to go to the window—anything to relieve the restlessness of her soul. Outside, the full moon shone with a lustrous beauty that made the fresh snow glimmer in the rolling pastures that stretched between here and the Kanagy place. The barns and silos stood peaceful watch over the countryside she knew so well, yet she felt she was seeing a different Willow Ridge.

Or was she seeing Willow Ridge with different eyes?

Lord, this is all so confusing and—and I don’t suppose Ya have any reason to listen to me, after all the years I’ve spent runnin’ the other way, not listenin’ to
You, Annie Mae prayed in silent desperation.
But so many gut folks could be hurt by my choices. So if Ya could steer me toward the right answers, I’ll listen closer now. I’ll pay attention, instead of lettin’ Yonnie and my wayward inclinations get the best of me.

Annie Mae stepped away from the window and then stopped. Her reflection in the dresser mirror across the room caught her by surprise: her white nightgown glowed in the moonlight, and with her black hair hanging to her waist, she resembled the angels Bishop Tom carved for his Nativity sets.

“For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face-to-face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.”

Annie Mae couldn’t name the chapter and verse that had just come to mind; at this breathtaking moment, she felt painfully aware of how little attention she’d paid to the Scriptures. But the goose bumps that prickled on her skin told her something astounding was happening. While gazing into mirrors was frowned upon because it fostered vanity, this moment felt
holy
. . . like a sign from God Himself. An answer to her prayer.

Her body relaxed and her pulse slowed. She gazed without blinking, searching for meaning in this vision, on this darkest night her soul had known since her
mamm
had died. Indeed, it could well be her mother gazing back at her from the glass, in the form of an angel come to bear an important message.

Annie Mae held her breath, unable to look away. As she recalled, folks in the Bible who’d been greeted by angels had been terrified, yet she felt peaceful . . . as serene as the snow-covered, rolling hills outside.

Is it you,
Mamm
? Are ya tryin’ to tell me something?

Oh, but she wished she could speak aloud to this vision and get the answers she’d yearned for since her mother had passed. She’d been a girl of eleven, so unprepared to take on the responsibility of watching over Nellie . . . and then for mothering the four wee ones when her stepmother Linda had died in childbirth, as well.

But you did it. And you’ll do what needs to be done again and again, my child, for it’s your purpose in life to care for others
—
especially those who are defenseless and have no one else to turn to. You are stronger than you know
.

Annie Mae turned to be sure no one else had entered the room. She was the only one awake, yet she’d heard a voice as clearly as if Bishop Tom had come to the bedroom door to speak to her.

It was all in your head. Don’t go thinkin’ it’s real just because
—

But the words
had
been real. She’d never been more certain of anything in her life. Annie Mae’s hand fluttered to her heart as she considered what this little episode might mean. Why would she be seeing angels that looked like Mamm and hearing voices . . . unless she was going crazy?

Not crazy. Committed. Committed to moving forward on the right path, come what may.

Annie Mae’s breath escaped slowly. She backed away, into the bedroom’s shadows, but she’d seen what she was supposed to see. And she’d heard a voice intended for her ears alone.

At that moment, she knew exactly what she must do.

Annie Mae slipped back into bed, yet she was so awake—so
aware
—she had to force herself to lie very still and just
think
. In a couple of hours, Tom would be rising to milk his dairy herd, and it was he she needed to speak with . . . to share the new direction she had received. He would understand and help her, as he always had. The bishop would defend her and her siblings against Yonnie or Dat or whoever tried to dishonor her, for he was a beacon of the Old Order faith. Like a lantern in her father’s darkness Tom would shine, and he would help her see the path she should take, too.

It was a Sunday when there was no church service in Willow Ridge, so Jerusalem and Nazareth would most likely devote their day to the children. The unhurried morning would be the perfect time to figure out who would sew clothes for them and what would happen if Dat came here to Tom’s house....

When she heard the bishop’s footsteps on the wooden stairs, Annie Mae rose and quickly dressed in the darkness. As she braided her hair. wound it into a bun, and then put on her
kapp,
Nellie slept on. And that was just as well. Annie Mae hoped for some time alone with the bishop . . . to be sure she hadn’t misinterpreted her vision.

When she reached the kitchen, Tom was lavishing apple butter on a slice of bread before he headed through the snow to the barn. His eyes widened when he saw she was up, but his smile was warm.

“Thought ya might sleep in, after yesterday bein’ so eventful,” he mused. “If you’re hungry, there’s plenty of—”

“I—I wanna talk to you,” Annie Mae said breathlessly. “Can I go to the barn with ya while ya milk?”

“Now there’s a request I don’t often hear,” he replied with a quiet chuckle. “I’d be glad to have ya, Annie Mae. Dress warm, now—there’s boots in the mudroom. Looks like we got several new inches of snow in the night.”

A few minutes later they were striding through fresh, fluffy snow that came up over her feet, yet Annie Mae felt warm . . . as calm as the blanketed countryside that surrounded them for as far as she could see in every direction. Once again she was struck by the beauty of Willow Ridge . . . rolling hills and tidy farmsteads where folks she’d known and loved all her life would soon be lighting their lamps to start their day. It was this unchanging sense of stability, this enduring ritual, that reassured her as she and Tom entered the earthy-smelling barn. For the past several years she’d rebelled against the routine of her life—the ever-necessary
rules
—as being dull and limiting. Yet now Annie Mae took immense comfort in knowing that the folks here stood firm in their beliefs and in the sense that their lives had
meaning
.

The black-and-white Holsteins shifted in their stalls, lowing and awaiting the bishop’s tending—they depended upon him as surely as the faithful all around town looked to him for guidance and assurance. When he’d turned on the generator, gotten the first round of cows sanitized, and then hooked them up to the milking machine, Tom turned to her. His face glowed in the light of the lantern hanging on the wall above them.

“What’s on your mind, Annie Mae? You’ve had an awful lot to deal with since your visit to Higher Ground,” he said in a low voice.

“I wanna join the church,” Annie Mae blurted. “Wanna start my instruction
now!
Or—or as soon as ya can do that for me,” she added in a less demanding tone.

The bishop’s smile was a sight to behold. “Praise be to God!” he cried as he grasped her shoulders. “Nobody’s happier than I am to hear that, honey-girl.”

Annie Mae had been holding her revelation inside long enough that it spewed forth now. “I—I saw a vision this morning,” she rasped. “Well, it was my own reflection in the mirror, really, yet it seemed like an angel—maybe even Mamm—was tellin’ me that I was to take my vow and look after the kids as my purpose in life. And even if I have to remain a
maidel
—on account of how fellas will most likely shy away from latchin’ on to all six of us—so be it. I’m ready to do that.”

The bishop’s swarthy face softened. His eyes glimmered as he gazed at her, contemplating what he’d say next. “That’s quite a stand you’re takin’, but an admirable one,” he murmured. “Truth be told, I believe the right fella will welcome ya into his heart and his home someday, no matter how many younger ones ya bring along. But meanwhile, can I ask ya what brought this on?” he said softly. “I don’t doubt your intentions for a minute. But this
is
a mighty sudden turnaround for ya, Annie Mae.”

Relieved that the bishop hadn’t railed at her for saying she’d seen a vision, Annie Mae relaxed. “
Jah,
I understand why you’re sayin’ that,” she murmured. “I think it’s partly because I saw Yonnie Stoltzfus in a brighter light yesterday, considerin’ some of the things he said and
. . .
wanted to do.”

Tom nodded, remaining quiet so she would finish her thought. The cattle in the milking stanchions shifted their feet on the hard floor, yet he seemed in no hurry to turn his attention away from her.

Annie Mae cleared her throat. “It was like I could suddenly see how he was usin’ that fancy car and his new apartment and a forty-dollar tip for pie—and even the roses he gave me for Valentine’s Day—to coax me into jumpin’ the fence with him,” she admitted. “And I realized that he might just as quicklike
dump
me after I did that, and—and he was usin’ the kids to lure me to Higher Ground, too. He’s workin’ for Dat now, ya know.”

Tom’s eyes widened. “Let me shift another bunch of cows onto the milkers while I think about this, okay?”

She nodded, observing how he spoke softly to his Holsteins as he removed the milkers . . . how gently he welcomed the next cows, who took their turns without any need for coaxing. As Tom cleansed their udders and hooked up the milkers again, Annie Mae sensed she’d made the most important statement of her life to exactly the right man.

As he approached her again, Tom’s expression waxed more serious. “So how was Higher Ground lookin’?” he asked her. “And how was it that ya made off with your brothers and sister, yet your
dat
hasn’t called or come after them?”

“Delilah said he was gone,” Annie Mae replied, thinking back to that fateful conversation. “Yonnie called himself the city commissioner. Said he was helpin’ with the layout of the town and other stuff. I suppose a dozen or more houses are mostly finished, plus a bank and a café and a school—and of course, Dat’s place sits on the highest hill and it’s the fanciest amongst them.”

“Hmm . . . could be Hiram’s gone east to rustle up more folks to join his colony,” Tom replied. “And from what I saw of his haircut, and of that car Yonnie’s drivin’, I can only guess your
dat
’s shifted over to bein’ a really liberal Mennonite . . . maybe makin’ up his own version of their beliefs—not that it matters,” he added emphatically. “Right now, I’m just glad you’ve come to me this way, daughter. I’ll do my best to keep ya out of harm’s way.”

“
Denki,
Bishop Tom,” Annie Mae murmured. “I think, deep down, that angel I saw was tellin’ me that the Old Order will be my refuge, my strength, for whatever comes at me. My father might’ve abandoned me, but the Heavenly Father will never, ever do that. So I’d best start payin’ better attention to Him.”