Renewing Hope (In Your World #2) (16 page)

"It is always interesting to watch you read," he whispered.

"Why?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious that perhaps I mouthed the words while I read.

It was difficult to understand some of the passages without rereading many times.

"You seem very determined to understand what it is you read," Benjamin replied, grinning.

I blushed and looked back down at the book in my hands.

"I'm a little behind. You've had years to learn, I have weeks. You guys know it better than I do," I whispered.

"I think you know more than you realize," Benjamin replied and glanced over at Nathan, a silent conversation between the two of them.

"How do you mean?" I asked, curious.

It was Benjamin's turn to blush.

"I just mean that you have a pure spirit. It seems to come naturally to you. You seem to see the Spirit in much of what you do. More so than I do," he murmured.

"I don't think that's true," I said, touching his hand as it sat on the table.

He shrugged, suddenly shy.

"No, really, Benjamin," I continued. "You see how it applies to the community. I see absolutes, and you see the grey of it. You explain it much better than I could. You've experienced so much, and know how to apply it to live the way one should. I am still causing people to question my being here."

I frowned at the last.

The Bishop in particular continued to have his doubts.

"I think the opinion of you is far higher than you figure," Benjamin said. "You have better standing than I do at the moment in this community."

"I doubt that, Benjamin. You are missed," I whispered and patted him on the hand again, smiling.

He let out a soft breath and eyed me for a moment, like a scared animal afraid that I might swat at him. I had to wonder again just how bad his fight with his father had been. His mother wanted him home. His sister missed him. Surely the rest of the community missed their future Bishop as well.

“I may be missed but that does not change that I am outcast,” he said after a moment in silence.

Nathan pursed his lips and stared at his friend.

“You were never shunned, Benjamin,” he said and shook his head to silence Benjamin’s argument to the contrary. “Your father sees you as outcast, but you are not truly shunned, otherwise you would not be sitting here with us.”

I looked from one to the other, trying to gauge the conversation. It wasn’t until Nathan slapped his friend on the back that I relaxed.

“I will never understand shunning,” I muttered and looked back into my book.

“It is not an easy thing to understand,” Nathan started and looked to Benjamin to pick up the conversation.

“We shun to keep the community free of the blight that the English world would force upon us by disobeying the rules of our Ordnung,” Benjamin said, an air to his voice not unlike his father’s.

I wondered how many times he had heard it recited to him.

“What happened to forgiving of transgressions?” I countered.

“Sometimes it is done, when the offender has properly repented,” Benjamin replied and looked away from my searching eyes.

“That doesn’t seem so hard,” I challenged.

“It is harder than many understand,” Benjamin countered, brows furrowed.

Nathan cleared his throat and nodded toward the door, signaling it was time to go.

I watched as they walked up the hill together, heads pulled low and jackets tight as the rain fell. They disappeared and I closed the door, deep in thought.

I didn’t understand shunning, really. Both Benjamin and Nathan tried to explain it to me, but the idea of it baffled me when looking at the context of Amish life. Everything I had learned and read about my new life seemed to contradict the idea of Shunning.

The Amish life was about forgiveness. 

Loving one’s family. 

Never being proud. 

So why did Bishop Yoder remain so stubborn about his son? Why had he not forgiven Benjamin of his transgressions while living in the English world, and accept his son’s desire to come home, to the Amish life?

Both had too much pride to admit their own faults, and both held onto the belief that their reasoning was right. The Bishop refused to accept that his son was a good and honest man, made for this life, but had simply strayed. Benjamin wanted to come home, but refused to believe that what he had done should matter. And if I had learned anything in my baptismal classes, it was that really, what he had done did not matter in retrospect. He had yet to be baptized and accept the Way. In true Amish faith, he would be washed of those past sins upon his baptism. 

If only the Bishop could forgive.

We had a few weeks of baptism classes left and the Bishop continued to eye me with contempt. Benjamin still avoided integrating back into the community. He would close himself off at the mention of the coming baptism Sermon for Emma and John.

This week I had told him his mother was more distant than usual. I thought perhaps she was ill. Naomi wouldn't say anything, and I couldn't ask the Bishop. Word from the women in the kitchen for Sermon was that she was worse than ever.

Benjamin wouldn't talk about it and I didn't push. I understood his fears. He was afraid of being cast out, by more than simply his father. I understood that feeling because I saw the eyes of the community on me wherever I went, whether it was with Nathan in his courting buggy, or with the Bergers at the weddings that had begun with the start of autumn. People watched me and spoke in hushed tones after I had passed. I don't think many knew I understood some of their language, for they spoke to one another in Pennsylvania Dutch.

Things I heard from some made my spirits fall. I tried to keep my disappointment from Nathan, but he always saw through me. Or maybe he heard those same words following after me.

English infiltrator.

A danger to the Way.

Temptress.

People like Sarah Jensen and Naomi Yoder were a comfort to my self-confidence and I was welcomed again and again at gatherings, but just one disparaging whisper clouded my determination, regardless of Nathan's assurances. Time was running out.

If we were baptized before the yearly Council met, then things would change even more.

The Bishop would vote in Nathan to ultimately replace him. Perhaps he saw it as a way to keep me from marrying Nathan. He knew I would be looked down upon, and that the stress could be too much. The community might not allow me to even be baptized, even after all the work I had done to learn. They might try and coerce Nathan to not marry me. It seemed as though all the forces were set against us.

I shook my head with a resolute determination. We would see ourselves through this winter, together. I would show the doubters that I cared about this community as much as they did.

CHAPTER 9

With the fall came more baking and a push to sell our goods to the markets before winter fell on us, limiting our means of making money while the snow and cold kept us close to home. I had learned of the Amish market in Friendship, a monthly market that Fannie prepared for eagerly by baking and cooking for long hours. Hannah had made a name for herself with her quilts, enough to develop a nice little business to help support Mark and herself.

Fannie thought it would be good for me to help this time since my pies had begun to have quite the reputation amongst our own community. What better way to prove oneself than through one’s baking?

So for the last few days, we had baked nonstop.

"Katherine, can you pull down the bag of sugar in the pantry? We have run out in here," Fannie called from the kitchen.

I set the box of cornstarch down and looked for the sugar. Finally looking at the upper shelves, I saw the bag of sugar and reached to get it. It was just out of my fingers reach. On tippy toes I could just grab the edge of the bag with two fingers. I strained a little higher, dancing on my toes when the bag slipped some in my fingers.

I settled down and was just about to reach again when a hard thud hit me on the head, and then the fine shower of tiny granules fell over me like an avalanche. I let out a screech and waved at the pouring mass, trying to reach up to stop it. I felt someone behind me, felt the waterfall of sugar cease, and struggled to wipe my eyes when I heard a soft chuckling near me.

"Katherine, I think perhaps we should restrict you to the lower shelves."

I sputtered, my mouth tasting overly sweet before I could speak.

"I'm sorry, Fannie! It just slipped!" I moaned, still wiping the sugar from my face.

"It is all right, Katherine," Fannie replied, taking me gently between the shoulders.

"You should go outside and try to dust yourself off. I will clean up in here."

"I'm sorry," I murmured, embarrassed and upset with myself for wasting so much sugar.

"Go on, daughter," she chuckled, and pushed me out the door.

I groaned and stepped out into the yard, brushing off the sugar that had collected on my dress, grumbling when I realized the thin sheen of sweat from baking had made the skin on my arms and neck only collect the sugar in thick clumps. I was finding sugar in my pockets when I heard a loud nicker behind me. Turning, I almost bumped into Nathan.

And Magnus.

"What is wrong, Kate?" Nathan asked, looking over me curiously.

"I was clumsy this morning," I muttered, and continued to dust myself off.

He laughed and put his hands up when I glared at him.

"Jonah needs me on the roof. Would you take Magnus to the paddock? Mark said he would be by sometime before midday meal to borrow him for the delivery of our hay today," he said and leaned in to peck me on the cheek. He pulled away grinning.

"What?" I groused.

"You taste sweet," he whispered and kissed me again, this time on the neck.

"I dumped sugar all over myself."

He hummed and let me take Magnus' rope lead from his hand.

"And I thought you could not get any sweeter," he replied with a grin as he stepped away.

I smiled at his playful words.

Only Nathan could make my embarrassing moment better.

I patted Magnus on the side of the neck, and started to lead him over to the paddock, feeling his breath blow past me as he walked close behind me. I startled when I felt warm soft lips nuzzle at the sticky skin of my neck. I squirmed away, swatting at my wet neck and glared up at the big animal's dark eye.

"Hey now, just because Nathan does it, doesn't mean you can, too," I said, to which he made a noise like a snort.

I huffed and tugged him a little harder, opening up the gate and letting him follow close behind me. Once inside, I reached up to unclip his lead from his halter. I stood there for a second as the big black looked down, one great eye watching me. I rolled my eyes and dipped my hand into my sugar-clogged apron pocket, opening my palm to his muzzle.

His soft lips greedily moved across my open hand, blowing half the white goodness from my hand before he looked up and stamped his hoof.

"Nathan is going to kill me for spoiling you, you know that right?" I asked him, as if he'd understand.

I dug out the rest of the sugar and held it out to him, stroking along his neck and speaking softly to him as he ate up the sweet treat from my hand.

"Don't expect this in the winter, big boy," I said. "It's slim rations this winter. Besides, you're getting kind of fat."

He snorted again, looking up and shaking his mane as if to argue with me. I laughed and gave him a good pat on the shoulder.

"Go on, go flirt with Patience before she starts to think you don't like her," I said and made the clicking noise Nathan always did when he had unhitched his horses from their harnesses, signaling them to go.

Magnus let out a low guttural noise and threw his head back, far above me, nodding it before turning and bolting away, tail high and head proud as he pranced along the fence line and back again. He slowed a little just as he came close and then turned and pranced away again. I shook my head at his playful attitude and closed the gate behind me, wondering if perhaps horses suffered from sugar rushes.

Magnus was certainly enjoying himself as he pranced and waved his head about.

Close to the house, I heard laughter above me. Looking up I saw Nathan and Jonah sitting on the roof of the front part of the house, watching me as I approached. Nathan pointed his hammer toward the direction of the paddock and shook his head.

"He is spoiled with you. You have turned my proud stallion into a prancing pony!" he admonished, fighting hard to hide his smile.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Your horse was always like that," I replied before glancing back at Magnus, who was now trotting around Patience before settling in beside her to graze on the mound of hay laid out for them. I grinned and shrugged when I heard Jonah and Nathan chuckling above me.

At least Magnus didn't hate me.

I finished dusting off in front of the porch and went back in to help Fannie with boxing up the pies and cakes we had made for the market. We had the buggy hitched and the food loaded before Jonah and Nathan were done repairing the roof, so Fannie settled into the seat and let me slide in beside her. Waving the men goodbye, we set out for the market.

"So is this an Amish-only market?" I asked as we rode.

"Mostly it is made up of several communities surrounding ours. The English farmers come as well. But aside from the general store, it is a good place to sell our goods, and a fine place to stock up on some of our pantry goods," she said, turning onto a side road I had never been on.

We chatted as we rode, Fannie offering me ideas for what to buy at the market to help build up Nathan's kitchen. I knew there was next to nothing there, and had made a list of things to buy for him when we arrived. I was excited to make the first purchases for the house, but was a little apprehensive about making sure I did it right.

And of course, I could still end up being denied amongst the Amish, even though we had almost completed the baptism classes. I still had to prove myself worthy to the rest of the community. I didn’t think I could do that simply with pie at a market.