The Judgment (18 page)

Later, after the three-and-a-half-hour service, Rose commented to Hen how surprised she was at Beth’s quiet demeanor during the hymns, prayers, and the two sermons. “She seemed to soak it up, like she comprehended the order of service—and even some of the German, too,” Rose remarked.

“Beth does seem to be in harmony with folk,” Hen replied. “In one accord, like the bishop says.”

During the third seating of the common meal, when the younger children were served, Beth and Mattie Sue sat next to each other at the table. Several of Silas Good’s younger school-age nieces were perched on the long bench near them, smiling and enjoying the light meal of bread and
Schmierkees
, dill and sweet pickles, and red beets. There was snitz pie for dessert, which brought smiles to everyone’s face.

Rose had been very surprised, earlier, to see Annie Mast’s fair-haired mother sitting with Silas’s mother during the table seating for the adults and ordained brethren. Never before had Rose seen the Masts and Goods this chummy, talking with their heads together, laughing and smiling. She couldn’t help recalling Silas’s strange visit to Rebekah at the Masts’ the other day.

Much later, after she helped clear away the cups and saucers and table knives, Rose lost track of Mattie Sue and Beth amidst the many young people. She had a hankering for some fresh air, though it was almost too cold to venture outside. Nevertheless, she and her sister-in-law Suzy—Enos’s wife—took off walking across the back lawn, toward the barren fields.

“You look like you lost your best friend,” Suzy said, her light blond hair neatly parted down the middle.

“I do?”

“You looked glum all during Preaching. Somethin’ wrong?”

You weren’t paying attention to the sermon,
Rose thought, but she dismissed it and said, “I’m worried ’bout Mamm. So is Dat.”

Suzy indicated that Enos had said as much. “Evidently, Sol went around and told the boys how poorly she’s been doing.”

“All of them?”

Suzy nodded.

“Dat can scarcely bring himself to leave Mamm’s side anymore.” She shared with Suzy how Dat was constantly checking on Mamm. “It’s takin’ a toll on him—on all of us.”

“He’s here today, jah?”

Rose nodded. “Mammi Sylvia stayed home with Mamm.”

Suzy sighed and looked sad. “Are ya sure nothin’ can be done for her?”

“It’s been years since she’s seen a doctor.” Rose paused and glanced at the sky. She shivered. “Only the dear Lord knows what’ll happen. Our lives are in His hands.”

“That’s right.” Suzy looked her way, offering a faint smile. “Still, ’tis awful hard seein’ her suffer.”

Rose agreed as they walked all the way up to the windmill, then headed back toward the house, the air damp and mighty nippy for wearing only shawls. Her mind wandered to the torn picture of what was probably Nick’s parents, nestled where she’d placed it with his childhood notes to her. Such thoughts seemed to crop up so unexpectedly, and at the oddest times.

“I hear ya have Beth Browning as company,” Suzy said, bringing her out of her musing.

“Anymore, she’s nearly like family.”

Suzy nodded. “I just hope it’s not too taxing for Emma, having a stranger underfoot.”

“Actually, Mamm seems to find some comfort in Beth. And it’s uncanny how drawn Beth is to her, too.”

“I feel for ya, Rosie.” Suzy stopped walking and faced her, touching her arm. “You and Mamm are so close after the many years you’ve looked after her.”

Rose nodded. “But I sure won’t be the only one missing Mamm when it’s her time.” She sighed. “Sometimes I honestly think she’s anxious to go Home to Jesus.”

They rounded the barn at the southeast corner. From there, Rose could see Silas with a group of other young men his age, including Annie Mast’s younger brother Benuel. Fleetingly Rose wondered if Silas might be asking Benuel about Rebekah, who was not in attendance today. Without a doubt, Rebekah was at home with Annie and the twins and would be for a number of weeks yet.

Will she get time off to go to Singings while she’s here?
Rose wondered, hoping now that Rebekah wouldn’t show up.

Silas glanced her way and nodded his head, eyes smiling. Her heart swelled and Rose could hardly wait to see him at Singing tonight.

Dare I ask him about Rebekah?
The last thing Rose wanted was to stir up trouble. Nevertheless, her curiosity nagged her.

She spotted Annie Mast’s mother and Silas’s mother walking toward the corncrib, talking earnestly. And near the woodshed, Rose’s father and Reuben Good were chewing the fat, while the bishop stood alone over near the stable.

What’s going on?

Chapter 17

T
he afternoon had grown increasingly colder, and all but a few families had headed home to milk cows. The bishop and Solomon were folding up the last table and bench for the family who had hosted the service. They would soon resume their normal life once again—at least until the barn gathering for the young folk later this evening.

“Well, the ministers next district over want me to go to Philly and talk to Nick . . . and bring him home,” Bishop Aaron told Solomon. “Like the Good Shepherd searching for a lost sheep, I s’pose.”

“Oh? I’d guessed it was only hearsay that Nick’s hidin’ out there. So he
did
go to Philly, then?”

“Won’t know for certain unless I go. But who’s got time to hunt down a needle in a haystack?”

Sol held his tongue, sensing his friend’s need to talk.

“Knowin’ Nick, I doubt he’d fess up to anything significant regarding Christian’s death, anyway . . . assuming there’s anything to say.” The bishop rubbed his long beard. “Waste of time, the way I see it.”

“But if it helped save your ministry, wouldn’t it be worth it?”

Aaron wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “There’d be no forcin’ Nick to come clean about what he did . . . or didn’t do. The men demanding this really have no idea who or what they’re dealing with. Nick’s as rebellious as the winter is long.” He sighed. “But that’s what they seem to want. That, and for him to repent fully and join church.”

“Same as what you always wanted for Nick, ain’t?”

Aaron sighed loudly. “What I want now doesn’t seem to matter.” He paused, a faraway look in his eyes. “Between you and me”—and here the bishop glanced over his shoulder—“I think some of them are a-hankerin’ for a squabble.”

“Why’s that?”

The bishop folded his arms across his burly chest. “Got themselves a long memory, I daresay.” Fed up as he no doubt was with the demands of the other brethren, he seemed strangely resigned. “It’s all bound up in the past.”

“Meaning?”

“You prob’ly don’t even know it, but the ministerial brethren were mighty outspoken about my decision to take in Nick—not only the neediest boy I’d found, but the most unruly. When ’specially Bishop Ezekiel got wind of it, he said only time would tell if my actions were wise or not. And, considering how Nick’s turned out, I’m looking downright guilty of poor judgment.”

Sol was stunned. “First I heard of this.” Yet he knew as well as anyone that Old Ezekiel had not a progressive bone in his body.

Aaron straightened. “My disobedience to Bishop Ezekiel has come back to haunt me, I daresay.” He motioned for Sol to move closer. “Ezekiel’s even gone so far as to suggest that Christian’s death might very well be God’s judgment on me . . . because I unwisely picked Nick Franco to be our foster son.”

Shocked, Sol shook his head. “That just can’t be. The old bishop believes such a harsh thing?”

“Seems so. He suggested that no good would come of this back when Nick first arrived and was already hard as anything to manage. He simply would not submit to my authority.” Aaron pulled out his kerchief and wiped his face.

Sol was unable to speak as he considered all this. Moments later, when several of the womenfolk came into the room to redd up the floor, he said, “You never breathed a word of this to me, Aaron.”

“No, I wanted the whole mess brushed into a corner somewhere.” Aaron moved toward the front door and stepped into the frigid air. He looked remorsefully at Sol. “You had enough to think about then, what with Emma struggling so. I felt for ya, I truly did.” Aaron shook his head. “Still do. Your wife’s in constant pain . . . and your daughter’s left her husband.”

“Emma endures both mental and physical suffering.”

“One is due to Hen,” Aaron said.

They stood there silently for a moment. The sky seemed to lower as smoke from someone’s pipe on the other side of the house wafted over the big roof, its sweet aroma filling their nostrils.

“So now that she’s left Brandon . . . what’re ya thinking?”

Aaron bore a pained expression. “Guess if I was truly God’s man for the church, I would’ve succeeded somehow in keeping your dear Hannah in the fold. The Lord knows I certainly tried.” Aaron remarked how he’d practically run Brandon off Sol’s premises the only evening Hen had brought him over for supper, back when.

“We were all mighty upset,” Sol admitted, pulling hard on his uneven beard.

“Jah, the Lord himself knows just how desperate a time it was.”

Sol nodded in agreement. Still, it could not compare to what his friend was now experiencing. He wondered if Aaron might be waiting for him to offer to go along to look for Nick. But with Emma so awful weak, Sol wouldn’t think of leaving her. And he had numerous orders to fill this week, as well. It wasn’t right to deprive his family of that income to seek out the likes of Nick Franco in Philly. Still, it would be ideal if the bishop’s foster son agreed to return and make recompense. But, as Aaron had said, the likelihood of that was mighty dim, if not hopeless. “So you truly think the brethren are holdin’ a grudge against ya . . . ’bout Nick?”

Aaron’s eyes were fixed on a flock of geese gleaning in the cornfield across the road. He never once moved his head to acknowledge one way or the other. Sol placed his hand on Aaron’s back. “I’m awful sorry about the disunity. ’Least it hasn’t caused a ruckus amongst the People,” he offered.

“Not just yet.” Aaron turned toward him. “Thing is, I’m standing my ground, refusing to
make
Nick come home, even if I
could
locate him. How absurd, when ya think of it. I’m of the mind to think it should be
his
doin’.”

Words like these were exactly why Sol looked up to the man chosen by divine lot to oversee the local church. “I’m with ya on that.”

Aaron continued. “I don’t expect Nick to ever set foot in my house again, but at the same time, I won’t quit praying for him to do just that.”

Solomon said he’d continue to pray, as well, still reeling with the disquieting information that the most revered bishop in the county was putting such pressure on Aaron.

The Sunday evening barn Singing was well populated with nearly all the courting-age youth from the local district, as well as a dozen or more from a neighboring one. Rose couldn’t help overhearing one of the ministers’ sons from the other church talking about his father and others wanting to get to the bottom of what had happened to Christian Petersheim that fateful day.

The idea greatly disturbed her, mostly out of concern for Nick. And also because Christian’s passing had taken its toll on the whole community, especially the bishop and dear Barbara.

In her heart of hearts, she did not believe Nick was capable of causing someone’s death—no matter what his cryptic words had implied.

In the note I burned . . .

Much later, when the cold air had stilled, Rose and Silas rode alone in his courting buggy. She brought up the new youth who’d come to the Singing. “They aren’t from our district, which seems a bit odd to me.”

Silas chuckled. “It appears word got out that a new batch of girls recently turned sixteen over here.”

She smiled; she’d guessed there was more to it than the other boys just showing up because their songs were faster than the neighboring church’s, or whatnot. But this made plenty good sense.

Funny how fast word spreads about eligible girls!

They visited pleasantly for a while, until Rose began to shiver. Silas reached back and brought out another lap robe and placed it over her. Then, just as quickly, he slipped under it, too, trusting the horse to keep going as he got resituated next to Rose. Silas, for his part, seemed relaxed and happy, even talking about the possibility of her coming to see his father’s dairy farm—“the milking operation is mighty impressive.” He held the reins lightly with a single hand. “Ya needn’t be shy about comin’ during the daytime. My family already suspects you’re my girl.”