Following Your Heart (16 page)

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Authors: Jerry S. Eicher

BOOK: Following Your Heart
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“Yost Byler! What brings you here this late?” Susan asked in surprise.

Yost blinked several times. “I wish to speak with your
daett
,” he said. “Would he be in the house?”


Yah
,” Susan said. “Shall I tell him you're here?”

“That would be
gut
,” he said. “I will wait for him here.”

“Come on, Teresa.” Susan turned to go and pulled on Teresa's hand.

“He wouldn't even look at me,” Teresa whispered on the way to the house. “He must be very ashamed of me.”

“That's Yost for you,” Susan said. “He doesn't know his way around women. He barely speaks to me, let alone to an
Englisha
. You probably scare him half to death.”

“He didn't look scared,” Teresa said. “I thought you said the other day this fellow was
old
.”

“Well, he is old.”

“He didn't look
that
old,” Teresa protested.

“That's because it's dark, and you can't see anything well,” Susan said.

“So how old is he?” Teresa asked.

“Oh, about forty or so. I don't know for sure. Just
old.”

Teresa laughed. “I guess that is old for us young women. What do you think he wants?”

“I have no idea,” Susan said, holding the front door open until Teresa was inside.

“Who's out there?”
Mamm
asked, looking up from the rocker.

“Yost Byler,” Susan said. “He wants to speak with
Daett
.”

“Yost?”
Daett
looked puzzled, but he got to his feet, dropping
The Budget
he was reading on the floor.

“He's outside waiting for you,” Susan said.

“I'll go see what he wants then,”
Daett
said. “I can't imagine what it could be.”

Susan opened the door for her
daett
after he pulled on his work coat. She shut it behind him, glancing out the living room window after him. Turning toward Teresa, she shook her head and went into the kitchen. Moments later she was back, standing in front of
Mamm
with her hands on her hips. “I don't like this one bit!” she announced.

“Like what?”
Mamm
asked, not looking up.

“Yost Byler out there talking with
Daett
,” Susan said.

“I'm sure it's nothing serious, Susan,”
Mamm
said. “Maybe he wants to borrow something.”

“At this hour of the night? I don't think so,” Susan said. “I'm afraid it has something to do with Teresa.”

“With me? The man wouldn't even look at me. I'm sure he's glad I didn't say anything to him so he wouldn't have to lower himself to talk with the likes of me,” Teresa stated.

“Teresa, please!”
Mamm
said. “I know people are being hard on you, but it's our way of dealing with problems. It's not meant to harm you.”

“I know that's what I am—a problem,” Teresa said. “And I'm sorry for the way I've lived my life, but I didn't know any better. I really am trying to live right now. That should make a difference.”

“We know that,”
Mamm
assured her. “And somehow it will work out. It always does in
Da Hah
's own
gut
time.”

“I still don't like it,” Susan said. “Look how long they're out there talking. Yost can't have that much to say.”

Mamm
got to her feet and looked out of the window. “It does seem a little strange,” she admitted.


Daett
's coming in now,” Susan announced moments later. She opened the front door and paused to watch Yost's buggy go past, its dim lights moving toward the road.

“So what did he want?”
Mamm
asked as soon as Menno appeared in the doorway and pulled off his coat.

“Perhaps we should speak in private,” Menno said, his face troubled.

“It's about Teresa, isn't it?” Susan asked.

“You shouldn't jump to conclusions,”
Mamm
reprimanded. “We all want what is best for Teresa.”

Teresa got to her feet with Samuel in her arms. She spoke in a choked voice. “Apparently the man has some complaint about me, and I'm very sorry about this. I certainly didn't plan to cause so much trouble for you folks. I'm going up to my room now, and if there is anything I can make right, please let me know.”

“You had better stay,” Menno said, choosing to sit in his rocker. “The man has no complaint against you.”

“Then what did he want?” Susan asked.

“Susan!”
Mamm
said. “I don't like that tone of voice. He may be Yost Byler, but you will still speak respectfully of him and be respectful of your
daett
.”

“He wanted to ask for Teresa's hand in marriage,” Menno said. “After she is baptized, of course. He has already spoken with Deacon Ray. It seems the ministers would allow Teresa to attend church if they knew there was such an arrangement. And Yost is suggesting the wedding be the same day as the baptism. That is, if Teresa agrees. Yost is willing to wait a bit for an answer.”

“Yost Byler!” Susan shrieked. “The nerve of that man!”

“Susan!”
Mamm
said again. “Please. Your
daett
is not finished speaking.”

“Surely you don't approve of this plan,
Daett?
” Susan asked.

“I don't know what to think,” her
daett
said. “And it really isn't up to me. I'm only passing on the offer. Teresa will have to decide.”

“Teresa has already decided,” Susan said. “She's having nothing to do with Yost. That man's house is a disaster. He hasn't worn a washed pair of pants for years. He can't find an Amish wife high or low, and now he wants to pick up a helpless
Englisha
who can't do anything about her situation.”

“Susan!”
Mamm
scolded. “Teresa
is not
helpless. She can speak for herself.”

“So what do you say?” Susan asked, turning toward a white-faced Teresa, who was staring wide-eyed at the wall. “Please tell them you will have nothing to do with this.”

“Teresa,”
Mamm
said gently, jumping to her feet and taking Samuel from Teresa's arms with one hand. With the other she helped Teresa to the couch. “Oh my, we have scared the poor girl half to death with this talk. I'm so sorry, Teresa. I should have spoken with Menno alone as he suggested.”

“The man is willing to marry me?” Teresa squeaked.

“It's not going to happen,” Susan insisted, sitting down and taking Teresa's hand in hers. “Believe me, it's not going to happen. This is the sick idea of a sick old man who has nothing to think about but sick thoughts.”

“He wants to marry me?” Teresa broke into hysterical laughter.

Mamm
quickly placed Samuel on the blanket on the floor, grabbed Teresa's other hand, and felt her forehead.

“Teresa,” Susan whispered, “he's not going to marry you.”

“The shock has driven the girl out of her mind,”
Mamm
said.

Susan stroked Teresa's hand as
Mamm
rushed into the kitchen, coming back with a cold cloth that she immediately pressed to Teresa's forehead.

“It's the perfect solution!” Teresa muttered, little streams of water from the cloth running down her cheeks. “Samuel would have a father, and the Amish community would accept me.”

“You're not doing it,” Susan whispered. “Never!”

“I will do it!” Teresa sat up straight. “Of course I'll do it. This is the only chance I'll ever get, and I can't pass it up.”

“Menno! Please help us here,”
Mamm
said.

Menno shook his head and spoke, his voice strained. “I haven't seen such a thing in all my life,” he said. “The people aren't understanding Teresa at all or considering what she wants to do. And there seems no way to convince them.”

“See?” Teresa said to Susan. “He agrees with me.”

“I didn't say that,” Menno corrected.

“But this is all I deserve,” Teresa said. “He's a man and I'm a woman, so what difference does it make if we marry? Samuel will have an Amish father. This Yost man isn't mean, is he? He won't abuse me?”

“Nee,” Mamm
said. “I doubt if he would do that.”

“Please, Teresa,” Susan pleaded. “Think about this for a while. You don't even know him.”

“I've seen him outside this evening, haven't I?” Teresa asked.

“But that was in the dark,” Susan said. “You haven't seen him in the daylight.”

“But… he wasn't awful,” Teresa said. “And he'll make a good father for Samuel, right?”

“Oh, this is awful!” Susan moaned. “I can't believe this is happening.”

“Look,” Teresa said, “remember how wrong you were in Asbury Park about me wanting to join the Amish? You never thought it would come this far, did you? And remember how ignorant I was of all the problems ahead of me? And yet God placed a great desire in my heart to join your people and find peace among them. Now here I am, and God is again supplying a way through the hard times. Sure, I don't love the man yet, but I can learn to love him. Look, Susan. I'll clean his house. I'll cook for him. Oh, I know I'm not as good at it as Amish women are, but it sounds as if he doesn't have much now anyway. So what is there to lose?”

“There's more to marriage than cooking and cleaning,” Susan said.

“I already know something about that,” Teresa said, looking over to Samuel.

“You deserve better than Yost,” Susan said. “Much better.”

Mamm
cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should allow Teresa to make her own choice on this matter,” she said. “If Teresa does agree to this, she can attend church and start the instruction class for baptism. If she changes her mind before her baptism, she is free to leave.”

“I like that plan,” Teresa said. “Can you give this Yost my answer at once?” she asked, looking at Anna and then at Menno.

Mamm
shrugged and looked over at her husband. “You will tell Deacon Ray about Teresa's answer?” she asked.

He nodded.

A flood of relief crossed Teresa's face. “Does that mean I get to go to church on Sunday?”

“Does it?”
Mamm
looked to Menno again.

“I believe it does,” he replied. “Yost can then come over for a proper introduction to Teresa whenever he wishes.”

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

T
he late Saturday night snowstorm blew squalls against the window of the old farmhouse, driving in through the cracks between the windowpanes and dusting the sill with a coating of white. Menno stirred in bed, still wide awake, listening to the steady, even breathing of Anna beside him. Cautiously he swung his stocking-clad feet out from under the covers. He pulled his pants on over his long johns.
Who would have thought things with Teresa would take such a turn?
he mused.

Tiptoeing into the living room with his flashlight, he held a hand over the lens to keep the light dim. He found the basement stairs and made his way down, the treads creaking at each step. At the bottom, he took his hands off the flashlight lens, opened the furnace door, and added a fresh supply of wood.

When he was done, he stood erect, listening. The soft swish of snow against the basement window drew his attention. He walked over to check the latch. It turned a little tighter under the steady pressure of his fingers. Moving back up the stairs, he closed the basement door, and turned off the flashlight. With his hand held out in front of him, he found his way into the living room and sat on the couch.

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