DC03 - Though Mountains Fall (25 page)

The bishop shook his head. “Well, at least they got rid of the bandits. Jake told me they were coming there to kill.”

“I think that’s probably true, but we got everybody out in time. All they did was burn Levi’s barn and kill his livestock. The bandits shot a few of the federales, but in the end the federales killed
all
the bandits. I guess I should be happy, but it just don’t feel right, celebrating because someone
else
died, and not us.”

“I see your point, Caleb, but the bandits were the killers, not you, and the troops saved you from them. Bandits live by the sword, and they die by it. Anyway, it’s hard for me to feel sorry for the men who killed Aaron.”

Caleb sighed. “I know. It’s mighty hard to explain, but
sometimes it just feels like we got rid of coyotes by turning loose a pack of wolves.”

The whole community was waiting at Caleb’s place to welcome the bishop. They were glad to see Jake again too, but his return took a backseat to the long-awaited arrival of a genuine church leader. Now there would be unity. Now there would be real preaching, straight from Gott’s own chosen representative.

Bishop Abe Detweiler immediately announced to the crowd gathered in Caleb’s front yard that instruction classes would start the following Sunday for those who wished to be baptized, and they would also hold Communion right away because there were those there who hadn’t partaken in a very long time.

“Now we will be more than just a struggling settlement,” the bishop said. “We will be a church.”

Chapter 20

W
hen the day of Rachel’s wedding finally arrived Mamm was so flustered she couldn’t think straight, and in one respect it was a good thing. Rachel had plotted a small deception long in advance, and there was a nervous moment when her mother came to help her get dressed for the wedding. Rachel had made herself a dress for the occasion, not very different in style or color from her other dresses, but new. The seams lapped wide on the inside so the dress could grow with her if she put on weight, for she would wear it as her Sunday dress for the rest of her life, and when she died it would be her funeral dress. Rachel took great pains with it, but not because it was her wedding dress.

The fabric had to be a certain shade of dark blue and the stitching had to be just so. Mamm watched her work with pride, never knowing that all of Rachel’s perfectionism served a single purpose: she wanted her wedding dress to be an exact replica of a dress that already lay folded and waiting in a drawer.

The one she was making would serve as Rachel’s Sunday dress, but she never had any intention of wearing it at her wedding.

On the morning of the big day Rachel rose very early, ironed Miriam’s dress, then folded her new one and put it away. It pained her to deceive her mother, but it pained her even more that Miriam would not be invited to her wedding. This way at least, Miriam was all around her. Still, Mamm had a keen eye, and Rachel was terrified she would spot some minuscule difference. But she didn’t. She was too flustered.

———

The weather was perfect. Rachel couldn’t have chosen a more beautiful spring day—all the flowers in bloom, the fields bursting with new green, the sky achingly blue, flocks of birds singing from the trees along the ridge. It was a day of opposites, of great joy and deep sorrow, a day of parting from her family and yet a day when family meant absolutely everything. A day of remembering.

She’d known from the very beginning, four years ago when Jake first kissed her, that he was the one and that this day would come. She’d been preparing for it for a long time, collecting a trunkful of dishes and flatware, a few pots and pans, sheets and pillowcases. In the two weeks prior to the wedding she’d put the finishing touches on a quilt, and last week she spent a whole day riding around to all the houses with Leah, borrowing dishes for the wedding feast.

It was also her duty to help Leah and her good friend Lovina Hershberger with their dresses, for they were to be her
navahucker
s. Harvey would escort Lovina for the day, and Rachel arranged for one of the younger Shrock boys to pair up with Leah. Bill was a handsome, quiet boy who reminded her a little of Jake. Leah hadn’t said anything, but for a long time now she’d been watching Bill closely when she thought no one was looking. Leah was thrilled when Rachel told her.

The six of them sat just outside the barn door in their fine
new clothes that morning, greeting each of the guests as they ambled up the lane from all over the settlement to gather in the Benders’ barn. Once all the guests were inside they began singing hymns from the Ausbund, while the wedding party remained seated outside. In a little while the bishop would come out and escort Jake and Rachel to the house and into the abrode for a counseling session, but for now the wedding party remained isolated from the crowd.

Jake held Rachel’s hand and said very little. They had known each other so long and so well that there was very little left to say, except “I will.”

But right after the singing started Jake squeezed her hand tighter and leaned close. “Look,” he whispered.

He was staring at something high up on the ridge above the barn. She followed his eyes and didn’t see anything at first, but then there was a movement in a little glade between the pines. A horse took a step forward, head down, grazing. He was a standard-bred horse, hitched to an empty oxcart. Her eye drifted higher, to an outcropping of rock at the top of the clearing, where she now saw a long-haired Mexican man sitting on the rock, flanked by two lovely Mexican women in their finest clothes. From this distance she couldn’t tell the two women apart, but it could only be Miriam and Kyra, with Domingo.

Her heart leaped and she could not keep her seat. With a cautious glance at the barn door she rose, stepped out into the sunlight, looked straight up at the trio on the ridge and waved an arm over her head.

They waved back.

Rachel wore a fresh white cape and apron over her dress, but now she pinched the dark skirt in her fingers and held it wide, smiling, dancing as she took a spin. When she came to a stop she clutched her hands in front of her and bowed deeply.

Thank you.

When she straightened up and looked, she knew the message had been received, and she knew which one was Miriam. Kyra and Domingo were clapping their hands above their heads, grinning broadly. Miriam would be the other one—the one who sat still and stunned, holding both hands over her mouth, leaning forward. Rachel couldn’t see them, but she knew there were tears in her sister’s eyes.

When Bishop Detweiler came out alone, Rachel and Jake followed him into the house for a short counseling session and prayer, and then he led the whole wedding party into the barn for the beginning of the wedding ceremony.

The bishop preached the standard wedding sermon, full of admonitions and dire warnings about divorce and the evils of marrying outside the church. She’d heard it a dozen times over the years, knew it by heart, and wasn’t really listening. This particular sermon was for people with doubts. Four years she had waited, absolutely certain of her choice, assured of her future. She gazed across the aisle at Jake, and he gazed back, his eyes steady as ever.

Her father was right there behind Jake, and Harvey in his place at Jake’s side, both of them listening intently to the bishop, both solid and true and dependable. Rachel was fully aware that she came from good stock. Glancing behind her she saw her mother calming Ada, keeping a tight rein with a hand on her knee. Leah, as a navahucker, sat at Rachel’s side, and somewhere back behind her was Mary with her four children, Emma with her three, and Barbara. Despite her occasional flightiness, even her youngest sister was turning out to be a decent, hardworking, honorable young woman.

She ran a palm down the sleeve of her dress and thought of Miriam, who had come to the wedding after all, although
forced to keep her distance. They were all here except Lizzie, who remained in Ohio. Even Lizzie had talked about making the long trek to Mexico for Rachel’s wedding, though in the end she couldn’t make it because it was too close to when her baby was to arrive.

But there was a hole where Amos and Aaron used to be, and now—especially now, on her wedding day—Rachel became acutely aware of just how badly she missed the twins, how deeply she wished they could have lived to see this day. Her joy was boundless and complete, and yet when she thought of her lost brothers a thin shadow fell on her like a cloud passing before the sun, and she felt a chill. Bowing her head she silently asked for peace, for acceptance. She told Gott that this was by no means a complaint, that she knew where her brothers were, knew they were happy and whole, but she missed them, that’s all. She fervently wished they could have shared this day. There was a hole in her family, and in her heart.

It was only a few minutes later, when her attention had returned to Bishop Detweiler’s warnings about divorce, that she heard a small noise—a very strange noise, completely out of place during a sermon, but unmistakable.

Someone had blown a tiny little note on a harmonica.

Perhaps the strangest thing was that no one else reacted at all. Abe Detweiler kept preaching without missing a beat. Not a single head turned. It had to have been Little Amos. Rachel looked over her shoulder and found Mary among the other women at the back, with her babies. Little Amos was sprawled across her lap, sound asleep.

When she turned back around she noticed an odd movement on the far side, behind the men. There were only two boys there, all by themselves on the back row. She saw them only partially between the heads of the other men and she couldn’t tell who
they were. Both were leaning forward, hiding their faces, their heads and shoulders shaking with laughter. Undoubtedly these were the culprits. It was a wonder one of the men in front of them hadn’t turned around and smacked whichever one blew the harmonica. The two heads came close to each other for a second, a whispered message, and they giggled again in complete silence. It was very improper, and whoever they were they would be in deep trouble if the bishop spotted them.

Then they looked up. When their eyes met Rachel’s her heart stopped, for she knew those faces as well as her own. Identical twins, fourteen or fifteen years old. Both of them looked straight at her, grinning, their eyes lit with mirth, their cheeks glowing, a picture of health and well-being. The one on the right wiggled his fingers in cautious greeting, and the other one winked. The rascal
winked
at her!

The vision lasted only a few seconds before the men in the nearer rows shifted and swayed and the two boys were lost from her sight. When the sight line cleared again they were gone. The back row was empty.

Rachel sat there openmouthed, motionless and staring, unsure of what was real and what was not, and yet quite sure of what she’d just been given. She took out her handkerchief and wiped away tears. Tears of joy. Whatever had just happened she gratefully accepted it as a small gift from Gott himself, an answer to a prayer. The cloud disappeared and she was filled, all over, with warm sunlight.

———

The time finally came for Jake and Rachel to rise and stand before the bishop, who put to them the questions common to all weddings. They promised to be faithful, to care for each other, to live together in love, forbearance and patience until they were separated by death.

The people rose, and Bishop Detweiler prayed over them. Then he placed her hand in Jake’s. Jake squeezed her hand and gave her a reassuring smile, and she saw it again in his eyes—the thing he had said to her in the very beginning that had captured her heart.

“I would do
a great many things for you.”

When the ceremony was over the congregation remained seated while the six members of the wedding party marched out in single file. The guests would hang back for a few minutes, giving the bride and her navahuckers time to go from the barn to the house and arrange themselves at the corner table. Halfway across the yard, Jake caught Rachel’s arm and stopped her.