Leah's Choice (11 page)

“You know why.” Leah started toward her.

Johanna came down the wobbly wooden steps and embraced her. “I know you mean well,” she said, “but I have to work this out for myself.”

“I’m afraid for you,” Leah answered.

“Pray for me—pray for us.”

“I have, and I still wish you’d come home with the children. Home to stay, at least for a few months.”

Johanna shook her head. “I can’t, Leah. Wilmer is my husband. He needs me—now, more than ever. He’s not well.”

“You won’t be either, if you stay with him.”

“We’ll be all right. Really. Wilmer’s been to talk to Samuel, and he plans to make a full confession in front of the church elders. He’s sorry, and he’s praying that nothing like that will ever happen again.”

“And if it does?”

“I’ll face that if I have to.” She forced a smile. “But I don’t want you and Mam to worry about me. Wilmer’s sister, Emily, is coming to stay with us for a while. I like her. She’s easy to get along with, and there won’t be any trouble in the house while Emily is here.”

“You’re sure?” Leah stepped back and folded her arms. “I wish…”

“If wishes were horses…” Johanna said. It was an old saying of Dat’s.
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

They laughed together, and for an instant, Leah saw a flash of her old fun-loving and strong sister. “I love you,” Leah said. She glanced toward the house.

“And I love you. But I know better than to let you and Wilmer under the same roof together until this whole thing blows over.”

“What he did was wrong, Johanna. Don’t make light of it.”

“I’m not. Believe me, I’m not. But I have to accept that he can change—that God can show us a better way to live, in peace and harmony, for the sake of our children.”

“I hope you’re right,” Leah said. She hugged Johanna again and then went back to where Blackie stood, patiently waiting.

“I see you’re driving Dat’s courting buggy,” Johanna said. “Not planning on going riding with that Mennonite boy, are you?”

“Nooo.” Leah chuckled and shook her head. “Mam had to tell you about Daniel, didn’t she?”

“I’m your big sister. Just because I don’t live in the house doesn’t mean I can’t know what’s going on.”

“And try to boss me around as you did when we were kids,” Leah teased.

Johanna smiled. “Exactly. Sometimes, I wish we were still children. Everything seemed so easy then.” Leah unsnapped Blackie’s bridle and rolled the length of rope around the hitching rail. “Tell Mam I’ll be fine. I’m sorry I worried all of you. With God’s help, I can handle this.”

As she drove out onto the blacktop road again, Leah wished that she could feel as confident as Johanna that she and her husband would be able to work out the problems in their marriage. She wished that she had Johanna’s faith. It wasn’t that she doubted that God could work miracles, but she’d always believed that God wanted her to take an active role in finding solutions.

Now, her thoughts wandered from Johanna’s problems to her own. She had always believed that she would eventually find a good Amish boy, marry him and lead the same life as her mother and older sisters. It was what was expected of her—what every faithful young woman was supposed to do. And yet… She had always felt constrained by the rules, rules that Johanna, Ruth, Miriam, and Anna accepted without question. Now she wondered if what she’d been struggling with hadn’t been her own willful disobedience, but something else. Could it be that God’s plan for her was different than that of her sisters? And if it was, would she have the courage to heed His will and follow a new road into the unknown?

The consequences of such a departure from all she’d ever known—from everyone she’d ever loved—were frightening. Once, before she was too young to go to school, Mam and Dat had taken them to the ocean for a day of picnicking, fishing and playing on the beach. She and her sisters had been playing tag with the waves, running down the wet sand and letting the cold salt water wash over their feet and legs. But she had grown bold, dashing farther and farther into the surf, until suddenly the force of the water swept her off her feet.

She’d been tumbled over and over in the waves. She was terrified, as salt water burned her eyes and filled her nose and throat. She’d been certain that she was dying, but then, just as abruptly, her father’s hand had closed around her waist. Dat had pulled her, choking and coughing out of the ocean, and the light was so bright that it nearly blinded her.

When she could see again—when she could make out her beloved father’s face—she realized that she wasn’t where she’d thought she was. She didn’t see Mam or her sisters or the rock jetty. The undertow had carried her down the beach to a new spot, and her father had rescued her there. She’d always remembered that feeling and that exhilaration of being alive and safe…but in a new place.

Could that be what was happening to her now? Could meeting Daniel and stepping into his world be a repeat of her childhood experience of dashing into the waves? And if the undertow caught her again, would she be saved or lost? And if she survived, would she surface in a new and unknown life?

Blackie snorted and tossed his head, jerking Leah back to the present. Just ahead of her, on the side of the road, was a gray van. And getting out of the vehicle was a familiar figure, with soft brown hair.

Daniel…her Daniel.

Chapter Nine

D
aniel slapped his palm on the van’s steering wheel and groaned. How could he have forgotten the last thing his aunt had said to him before he left for the grocery store in her minivan? “Don’t forget to put gas in the tank. Otherwise, you’ll be walking home.”

He
had
forgotten, and he
would
be walking. He’d tried to reach the house on his cell, but no one answered. He tried Leslie, but got her voice mail.
How could he have been so absentminded? Again!
He couldn’t help but laugh.

He’d been so proud of himself for remembering to use Aunt Joyce’s detergent coupons, getting everything on the list, including the twenty cans of tuna and the dozen boxes of raisins that he’d purchased with his own money. He hadn’t wanted to show up at the food bank without his own donation.

Caroline would tease him unmercifully for forgetting to put gas in the van and getting stranded, and he had to admit that he deserved it. The truth was, he’d been thinking about Leah Yoder. He’d hardly been able to think of much else since the night they’d searched for Joey Beachy. He’d mentioned it to his aunt at breakfast this morning, and she’d rolled her eyes.

“What’s wrong with Leah?” he’d asked, stung by the expression on her face.

“Nothing. Everything.” Aunt Joyce had patted his shoulder as she slid his plate of eggs and grits in front of him. “She’s a lovely girl…but…”

“She’s Amish,” Uncle Allan had finished.

Daniel had tried to make a joke of it. “Didn’t you just say that Mom was hinting for you to introduce me to some nice girls while I was here?”

Aunt Joyce took her seat across from him and gave him an
I’m saying this for your own good
look. “She did. But what she meant was that I should introduce you to some nice
Mennonite
girls. Girls like Kelsie Rhinehart or Janelle Warner. Girls from our church.”

“The Amish are a closed society,” his uncle said as he buttered a slice of rye toast. “Leah Yoder’s people have no interest in spreading the Gospel or in serving God by contributing to society. That’s
our
way, Daniel. Leah’s a beautiful girl, someone that I’d be proud to have as a daughter, but she’s not a wise choice for you to show an interest in.”

“What your uncle’s trying to say,” his aunt interjected, “is that we know these people. Fewer than 2 percent of the young women ever leave the church. Leah might date you, but if you have any other hopes, you’re going to be sadly disappointed. None of Hannah Yoder’s girls will ever leave the fold.”

His uncle had folded his newspaper and set it aside. “And you’re not just any Mennonite young man,” he said. “You’ve had a calling to serve, and you’re about to leave on another mission, probably to some place thousands of miles from home. You need to find a young woman who shares your faith and commitment.”

“Someone like Kelsie,” his aunt added. “I know she’s interested. Her mother hopes you’ll accept their invitation to dinner before you leave.”

“You know how much we think of you,” Uncle Allan said. “…And how proud we are of you. We just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Daniel had tried to reassure them that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid or anything to embarrass them, but he couldn’t deny that he was interested in Leah…more than interested—fascinated. Yet, in all honesty, he wasn’t ready to tell anyone how deeply he felt for Leah, especially since they were still practically strangers.

What his uncle had said was true. Every lesson Daniel had ever learned in his church and family had encouraged service to those less fortunate. Not every Mennonite felt called to serve as a missionary, but most who were active in the church helped to provide a safety net for those in need. They acted as volunteers in homeless shelters and youth programs, provided support for abused women and teen mothers. The Amish, while good, God-fearing people, kept to themselves. The sensible thing would be to find someone like Kelsie Rhinehart, someone who shared the same beliefs and sense of purpose.

But, Daniel thought as he got out of the van and locked the door, rational thinking had gone out the window when Leah walked into his life in that wet and windy dark pasture. Kelsie Rhinehart was a pleasant young woman, with a nice smile, but she wasn’t Leah.

He’d only met Leah three times. It was ridiculous that he could be so attracted to her after knowing her for such a short time—laughable, really. Only he wasn’t laughing. All he could think of was Leah…how she talked…the way she smiled…the sparkle in her eyes. He’d never met a girl like her—a girl who made him feel as though she lit up the room when she walked into it. And he’d never expected an Amish girl to be so outspoken or so easy to talk to. She was a puzzle, one he found fascinating.

He wanted to date Leah, but more than that, he wanted her to be his wife. It was insane. He’d never even had a steady girlfriend. He had lots of friends who were female, and he’d participated in coed youth outings, Sunday School picnics and organized sports. In Spain, he’d met lots of pretty girls and worked with them on festivals and charity affairs. He’d gone to movies and museums with a circle of friends from his high school, but he never felt comfortable asking a girl out.

He was probably getting way ahead of himself, anyway—he didn’t even know if Leah liked him. She’d agreed to help out at the food bank, but that was probably because she had a kind heart. If she knew that he wanted to ask her out, she’d probably refuse to ever speak to him again. And her family would certainly shut the door to their home in his face.

Daniel grimaced. What was he thinking? There was absolutely no way that he has a chance with a girl like Leah Yoder, especially one as beautiful as she was. No, his hopes would come to nothing. He would end up as alone as he’d ever been in the girlfriend department, and Leah would be the wife of a farmer like Samuel Mast—one of her own kind.

He walked a few yards from the van, and then turned back to make certain he’d locked the door. He hadn’t seen any cars come by since he’d run out of gas and coasted off the road, but with all those groceries in the back, he didn’t want to take chances. He took out his cell and tried his aunt’s home again, but no one answered. As he retraced his steps, he couldn’t help wondering how he’d gotten to this age without ever becoming seriously involved with a girl, any girl.

He supposed that part of it was that he’d always looked younger than he was. At eighteen, he could have passed for a middle school student, and he’d been nearly twenty before he’d shot up another four inches and begun to shave. The girls he talked to at lunch and between classes all treated him like a younger brother and wanted to tell him their problems with their boyfriends.

In college, he’d been so engrossed in his nursing studies and the multiple part-time jobs that he’d worked to support himself—that there hadn’t been time for dating. And even though he was lonely, at times, the girls in the too-tight clothing with flirtatious personalities didn’t seem like a good fit for him, and the more studious ones, who did interest him, he’d been too shy to approach.

Daniel considered himself a normal guy, but he’d never been able to understand the games that a lot of young men and women played or the way they flirted with each other. He wasn’t interested in parties, where the main attraction seemed to be alcohol, and he didn’t want to hang out in bars, hoping to meet some girl who’d go home with him. As geeky as it sounded, even to himself, he’d wanted to save some important parts of life for the one woman he was certain God intended for him.

For Daniel, marriage was a sacred pact between one man and one woman. He’d always felt that the greatest gifts he could bring to that union was a pure heart, a sense of responsibility and a strong faith. He’d thought that when the right girl came along, the one God intended for him, he’d know it. He just hadn’t expected that girl to appear in an Amish
kapp
with a good flashlight and a better sense of direction than he’d ever possess.

Daniel glanced down the road. He hoped that the nearest gas station would have a sympathetic attendant willing to lend him a gas can and perhaps offer a ride back to the van. He had money. He even had a credit card that his church had secured for him so that he wouldn’t travel on this speaking tour without an emergency backup. But he hadn’t used church money for gasoline or tolls, at least not so far. He’d saved most of the small salary he’d collected while working at the clinic in Spain, and he’d been using that for his day-to-day needs.

The rattle of wheels on the blacktop behind him and the clack-clack-clack of a horse’s hooves pulled Daniel out of his reflection. He stopped walking and turned to see an open buggy approaching. There was one person inside, a woman in a dark green dress and a white head covering. For an instant, he thought it might be…