Second Chances (30 page)

Reluctantly, Anna followed. “I'm sure your care was greatly appreciated.”

Mary smiled at the compliment. “I must say that I was surprised at how attentive
the Esh family was,” she added, lowering her voice. “She certainly was not lacking
in companionship!”

Anna knew what her sister meant. “So I heard.”

Stepping inside the house, Mary looked around as if seeing it for the first time
with fresh eyes. The air smelled like lavender due to Anna using vinegar and water
with a dash of lavender oil to clean. And the floor shone, the result of a good scrubbing
on her hands and knees. With everything put away and no papers strewn about, it was
as pristine and orderly as anyone could hope for.

“Everything seems so . . . ” Mary paused as if looking for the word. Anna raised
an eyebrow, wondering at the serious look on her sister's face. “Small!”

If Anna was wounded by the lack of appreciation for her efforts, she did not show
it. She had not spent her time cleaning the house in the hopes of receiving compliments
from her sister. Praise and appreciation were two things that did not slip through
Mary's lips too often.

“After spending so much time at the Eshes, with that grand room of theirs, it makes
this place feel as if I'm returning to an old, dilapidated
grossdawdihaus
!” The look
of disgust on Mary's face said more than her words. It was true that the farms in
Lancaster seemed to have a different layout than the ones in Holmes County. But Anna
would be hard-pressed to call Cris and Mary's house dilapidated.

Fortunately, she didn't have to respond. No sooner had Mary started complaining than
the door opened and Cris stumbled through it, a large suitcase in his hands. He set
the bag to the side and looked around the kitchen. Contrary to Mary, he seemed well
pleased with his
sister-in-law's efforts. “Well done, Anna,” he said. “You've definitely
been working hard during our absence. It certainly shows!”

“
Danke
,” she replied, too aware that a scowl had crossed Mary's face when she heard
Cris's compliment.

“I reckon we'll all be working hard over the next few weeks,” Mary added. She made
no move to assist Cris with the bag. Instead, she headed toward the sofa and sank
into it. Lifting her feet, she leaned back and stretched out, one arm tossed over
her forehead. “Oh my, how travel makes me tired. I can't even imagine taking that
drive to Pinecraft. Sheer torture!”

Once again, the door opened, and the two boys raced inside.

“Take off your shoes!” Mary scolded, her loud voice and angry tone surprising Anna
as well as Cris and Walter.

“We don't have no shoes on!”

Mary lifted her head, her dark eyes looking in their direction. Indeed, neither boy
had shoes upon their feet, for they had left them at the door as Anna had taught
them to do during their mother's absence. Rather than praise them, Mary sank back
into the pillows and groaned. “My head is throbbing. Cris, be a good boy and fetch
your
maem
a cool cloth.”

Gesturing that she would do it, Anna hurried to the sink. As she ran the water, letting
it run so that it was cold before she soaked a washcloth beneath it, she waited for
Mary to begin updating her on the events from Lancaster. The two boys took advantage
of their mother's indisposed nature and slipped back through the door. Within seconds
Anna caught sight of them running past the window toward their grandparents' house.

“Those Lancaster Amish,” Mary sighed. “Quite different in nature.”

“How so?” Anna handed her the washcloth and sat in the chair beside her sister.

Mary waved the washcloth in the air, its purpose forgotten. “So much commercialism
out there. Even at this time of the year, the tourists are everywhere and quite brazen
with their cameras and questions.”

Not wanting to get into a debate with Mary, Anna remained silent. She did, however,
feel differently about Lancaster County. Granted that they had only stayed a short
while, she had enjoyed the different scenery and felt that the people she met were
warm and welcoming. She hadn't noticed an excess of tourists, although they hadn't
ventured into the main town.

“I simply cannot believe that Leah would move there!” The washcloth slipped from
Mary's fingers, but Mary made no moved to collect it from the floor.

Anna frowned. “You mean she's moving to Indiana,
ja
?”

A harsh laugh escaped Mary's throat and she sat up, just enough to lean on one elbow
so that she could stare at her sister. “Indiana? Whatever for?” She reached down
for the washcloth and handed it, absentmindedly, to Anna, indicating that she wanted
it refreshed. “Although I do envy that house, I do not envy the work she will have
ahead of her.” Glancing at her sister, who took the washcloth, a confused look upon
her face, Mary quickly added, “Envy with a small ‘e,' of course.”

But Anna wasn't focused on Mary's admission of jealousy. She was, instead, focused
on the fact that Leah was to move to Pennsylvania, not Indiana. “Is Freman to move
his business there, then?”

Snatching the washcloth back, Mary lowered her head once again and dropped the cloth
on her forehead. “Freman? Why do you bring him up?”

None of this was making any sense. “I thought that he . . . ” She paused. Dare she
state what she had presumed? “ That he and Leah . . . ”

“Oh, heavens, no!” This time, when Mary laughed, there was great mirth in the sound.
“Freman Whittmore?”

Time seemed to stand still as Anna processed this information. Wasn't it just a few
days ago when the letter arrived that so upset Salome? Hadn't Salome told her that
Leah was to wed? “I'm afraid that I don't understand any of this,” Anna confided.
“Salome said that Leah wrote of an upcoming wedding. I presumed that she meant with
Freman, especially since he left right away to return to Pennsylvania.”

Still laughing, Mary finally sat up. She shook her head, smiling at her sister as
if she were completely daft. “Freman didn't return to Pennsylvania. He was called
back to Indiana, Anna,” she said. “And Leah is to marry Benjamin.” A slight pause
helped Anna comprehend what she had just learned. “Benjamin Esh,” she added, as if
that might help clarify.

“Oh, my!” The two words slipped out in a whispery tone. She lifted her hand to her
mouth as she turned away from Mary, not wanting her to see the shocked expression
upon her face. How could she have gotten this so wrong? The sleepless nights, the
tear-stained pillows, and the heaviness that clung to her like a weight around her
neck had been for naught.

“We were all shocked, frankly,” Mary continued. “But he was so attentive to her care,
I rarely had to sit with her.
I don't think he left her side more than an hour at
a time.” A sigh escaped her lips as if the memory was a dear one. But, just as suddenly,
her wistful look changed to a frown. “Although I'm not certain I approve of such
a short courtship. They just met, after all—not to mention that he was still in
mourning.”

Anna remained speechless.

As usual, Mary did not seem to notice. She continued talking, oblivious that her
sister had not responded to anything she said. “And both Cris and I did wonder,
though, at how Freman would take the news. We were all so certain that Freman was
going to ask Leah to marry him! Poor man, to have been jilted not once, but twice.”

Anna spun around. Mary's words seemed to echo in Anna's head. She could scarcely
believe that she had heard her sister properly. “What did you say?”

“Apparently, this is not the first time that his attention to a woman has been rebuffed.”

Horrified, Anna stood there, her mouth agape and the color draining from her cheeks.
Had people known? Was it possible that she had not heard other members of the Amish
community whispering about his rapid departure from Charm eight years ago? How could
she have been oblivious to the Amish grapevine? And, with Mary having most likely
learned this in Pennsylvania, was it possible that such gossip had spread throughout
the different Amish communities? The only saving grace was Mary's casual discussion
of the matter. Clearly, the object of Freman's professed affection (and cause of
his emotional devastation!) had been kept secret. For that Anna would be eternally
grateful.

And, just as quickly as she said a prayer of gratitude, another thought struck Anna.
Perhaps it was humiliation, and not rejection, that had driven Freman away from
Holmes County so many years ago. If that was truly the case, the only reasonable
question to ask next was what could possibly have brought him back?

Stunned, Anna felt as if the room spun around her, and she reached for the back of
a chair to steady herself.

“As for Leah,” Mary continued, oblivious to her sister's racing thoughts, “certainly
you noticed that Freman had developed an attachment to her. Why, he practically visited
here every day since his arrival! And arranging for her to travel to Lancaster. It's
any wonder that Raymond agreed to it! It could have been quite the scandal if the
bishop hadn't traveled with us. Of course, with Cris and me chaperoning, no one would
have reason to speculate either, I suppose.” She said this last part in a condescending
tone. “And surely you saw how Freman was so concerned for Leah's well-being . . .
” As if disapproving, Mary shook her head and clicked her tongue:
tsk, tsk, tsk.
“I was convinced that his warm feelings toward her were returned in kind. Makes me
wonder at how fickle the young love of a woman can be.”

In a moment of rare courage, Anna lifted her chin and stared at Mary, a look of defiance
in her eyes. “Or that of a man,” Anna retorted, surprised at the force with which
she spoke. “Why, only six months ago, Benjamin was committed to another.”

Mary shooed away Anna's comment by waving her hand.

“I will not be dismissed so easily,” Anna said. “I'm not certain which is worse:
Leah's apparent fondness
for Freman, or Benjamin's acclaimed tenderness for his beloved.
If both could find a replacement so easily, perhaps they never loved at all! A woman
who truly loves a man cannot simply turn off her feelings, replacing the one with
another! As for a man, Benjamin's mourning, while admittedly drawn out, ended quick
enough and demonstrated that, given even a short amount of time, even a man can recover
from the wounds of emotional loss . . . unless he too was not truly in love!”

Mary was not impressed. “What would you know, anyway, of love?”

Her comment cut through Anna and she felt a tightness in her chest. “I know that
once found it would not be easily replaced!” She paused before adding, “At least
for a woman.”

“But not so for a man?” With a smug look upon her face, Mary lifted an eyebrow as
she asked, “And what of
Daed
? He has remained true to our
maem
's memory.”

“I'm not certain if he is the exception to the rule . . . or if he simply could not
afford a replacement!”

“Anna!”

Anna herself was dismayed at her comment about her father, but in her confusion over
Freman, some of her deepest thoughts had spilled out. In these weeks apart from her
father, older sister, and then her younger sister, she had had the leisure to reflect
on their characters and to realize, to her growing dismay, that she could never truly
love and deeply respect her own family. She could do right by them and feel some
small affection to them as those she was tied to by blood and circumstance, but as
for the deeper emotions of earnest trust, open and friendly compatibility, and a
most loyal love—those emotions
would remain locked away, perhaps never to be experienced
again.

“I think I'll excuse myself,” Anna said, a strained tone to her voice. “Get some
fresh air and check on the boys while you rest.” She took a step toward the door
and paused, her back facing her sister. “And Mary?”

Her sister made a noise, indicating that she was listening.

Anna looked over her shoulder at her sister, stretched out on the sofa with the cloth
draped over her forehead. “I know plenty about love, a love that never wavers and
is always strong. The love of our heavenly Father for His children.” Without saying
another word, Anna pushed open the kitchen door and stepped outside, grateful that,
finally, she had found the resolve to stand up to Mary—and to teach her a much-needed
lesson too.

Chapter Eighteen