The Parting (36 page)
If Daed gets wind of this . . .
Caleb scarcely knew how to persuade his father of the depth of his love for Nellie . . . the rightness of his choice. It was a rare departure from the norm for a son to confide such matters, but his father had obviously figured out whom he was seeing—thanks to Rebekah, probably. “I shouldn’t need to defend my preference for a mate,” he muttered, heading out to the far pasture to tend to the cattle’s water.
He must see Nellie, and before next Sunday. No doubt she had anticipated some resistance from him. Perhaps she’d hoped he would mull over the letter and acquiesce, if only for a single Sunday.
Caleb couldn’t begin to read her mind. Even so, he knew one thing: He would follow the mandates of the Ordnung at any cost . . . and once he had talked sense into Nellie, he was sure she would, too.
Nellie Mae still smelled the sweetness of the bakery as she hurried up the steps to her room. Tuesdays were exceptionally good days for selling pastries. Most people did their washing on Mondays around here—English folk included—making Tuesday the more popular day to get out and purchase goodies from Nellie’s Simple Sweets.
Lighting the lantern, she happily settled into her room for the night. She began to take her hair down and brush it, thinking of Caleb. Her letter had surely arrived at her darling’s by now, and she could only guess what he’d thought. The sad truth of the matter was that the planned split of the People was tremendously complicated, especially with her father and Caleb’s going separate ways. Yet Uncle Bishop seemed to think it for the best, even though he was relinquishing his power by handing over the ultimate decision to the heads of households.
Dear Uncle, he must be relieved in a way
. She would not want to be in his shoes, nor her aunt Anna’s. The sanctioned split could not possibly go well. Already she’d heard from the grapevine that some were beginning to behave like sheep needing a shepherd.
Cars are an awful big enticement,
she thought.
She was glad Uncle Bishop was allowing people ninety days to make up their minds.
Will Caleb and his family cross over, too?
The barbed manner in which Caleb’s father had recently approached her seemed to make the likelihood of his ever leaving the Old Order extremely slim. All Nellie Mae could do was hope for a truly peaceful resolution in spite of Caleb’s and her misery.
Nellie Mae had curled up in bed, snug in her warm cotton nightgown, yet unable to sleep. Having retired earlier than the rest of the house, she stared at the ceiling, not counting sheep but days.
What would Suzy have thought of all this?
She opened the drawer next to her. Suzy’s Kapp strings lay in her diary as a bookmark of sorts. Nellie had wanted to mark the spot where Suzy’s life had made a turn for the better.
Is she with the Lord because someone invited her to hear another side to things? Could it be?
She wondered about that and pictured Caleb sitting alongside Dat and her brothers, all in a row at Manny’s meeting. What would happen if he came?
Still imagining the scene, she fell into a deep sleep.
Some time later, she happened to hear a
tick-tick
on her windowpane.
Sitting up, she thought she saw a flicker of light, too.
Am I dreaming?
Heart in her throat, Nellie Mae scurried to the window and looked out. There, standing in the snow below, was Caleb, shining his flashlight into her eyes.
Ach, is this the night? Has he come to propose?
She unlocked the window, raised it, and poked her head out. “I’ll be down in a minute,” she whispered. “Will you meet me at the back door?”
Caleb turned off his flashlight just that quick, and she hurried to shut out the frigid air, pushing down hard on the window frame. “Oh, goodness . . . what’ll I do?”
Nearly in a panic, she stumbled about, lighting the lantern and snatching up her white bathrobe and slippers—but no, she couldn’t go down in her nightclothes. What was she thinking?
Lickety-split, she changed into her Sunday best and brushed her long hair, pushing it back over her shoulders. Only family members were supposed to see it hanging free of her bun and Kapp, but she’d already kept Caleb waiting long enough. Suddenly she laughed softly, realizing that Caleb would see her like this for many years to come.
I’m going to be his bride, for goodness’ sake!
After taking a moment to make her bed, Nellie snatched up the lantern, carrying it down the long staircase, glad for the solitude of the hour. She considered Maryann’s emphatic remark—that the girl always knew, supposedly, when this night had arrived.
She
hadn’t had the slightest inkling, or had she somehow missed it at the last cider-making frolic?
More fully awake now, she began to worry that Caleb might have been disturbed by her letter. Put out, even.
But he’s here! What does it mean?
Tiptoeing across the kitchen floor, Nellie Mae hurried to the summer porch, eager to lead her beau to her room, where they would sit on the pretty loveseat, holding hands as he spoke tender words of love.
Nellie held the lantern high as she went to the back door, smiling her welcome. “Oh, Caleb . . . it’s so good to see you!”
“You, too, Nellie Mae.” He seemed surprised at her hair . . . first looking, then not looking. He rubbed his hands together, his cheeks rosy red, his eyes meeting hers.
“Come in and get warm,” she offered. “We can talk in my room, if you want.”
His face darkened, his eyes serious. “Nellie, I’m not here for that. . . .”
She felt her mouth drop. “All right,” she said.
He’s not going to ask me to marry him
.
“We need to talk, Nellie Mae.”
She paused. “Where?” She glanced over her shoulder. The kitchen was vacant and dark.
“Best not be wakin’ up your Dat.” Caleb glanced at her again, and his gaze admiringly followed the length of her hair. “Can you bundle up and go ridin’? I brought some heavy lap robes . . . and some hot bricks.”
She forced a sad little smile. He waited for her to roll her hair into a makeshift bun so she could push it into her black winter bonnet. Then she donned her heaviest coat and other winter clothing, all the while her heart sinking.
What will he say?
They pulled out of the lane slowly, without speaking. Then, once they were out on the main road, Caleb began to talk. “I read your letter, Nellie.” He reached for her hand, but his glove felt stiff against her mittens. “Don’t you understand what this means . . . what you’re asking?”
She swallowed hard. “Jah, but the meeting was ever so interesting. Nothing like what I s’posed.”
“It’s foolishness, that’s what! Heresy—the things Preacher Manny’s teaching.” His voice was earnest, pleading.
She felt as if she might literally sink into the seat. She’d believed the same thing before reading Suzy’s diary, but now she did not wish to swiftly dismiss the teachings that had transformed her sister’s life. “But, Caleb, if you could just hear what I heard . . . if you could just help me understand.”
“I don’t need to go. I know what’s bein’ said.”
She sighed. “You’re judgin’ by what others say? Ach, the rumor mill will be the death of us.”
“Now, Nellie . . . love.”
She was torn between the submissive way she’d been taught to speak to a man, and what she felt she must say. “Won’t you hear Preacher Manny out, Caleb? Just this once?”
Once was all it took for Suzy
.
He turned to face her, still holding her hand. “I woke you up tonight for a reason. I’m here to ask you to cling fast to the Old Ways.” His voice grew stronger, ringing through the darkness. “I trusted you when you said Suzy was a good girl, no matter the rumors, and I’ve pursued you knowin’ my Daed’s concerns. I stood up for you with my father, Nellie—told him you’re the kind of woman he should welcome as a daughter-in-law.”
She was silent. She
had
insisted to Caleb the rumors about Suzy were false, but that was before she’d discovered everything about her sister. “I told you the truth about Suzy,” she protested. “She wasn’t a wayward girl when she died . . . she was—”
“I want you to turn from this nonsense, Nellie. The sooner the better.”
“Have you closed up your mind . . . your heart, then?”
“My heart is for
you
, Nellie Mae. I want you to be my bride. Marry me next year, after baptism.”
Marry me?
The words she’d longed to hear, yet he’d spoken them in the midst of an argument. Even so, how could she refuse him? She couldn’t hold back the tears. “I love you, too, Caleb. Honest, I do. And I
want
to marry you . . . but . . .” She couldn’t go on.
“Jah, we love each other,” he replied. “That’s why I’m here, to protect you . . . to keep you from makin’ the biggest mistake of your life.”
“I’m not sure I see it that way.” She brushed away her tears. “Can’t you just go and hear for yourself?”
He shook his head. “I know what I believe.”
“Jah, tradition. Plain and simple.”
“I’m not goin’ to a silly meeting.”
“You’re diggin’ in your heels like an obstinate mule, Caleb Yoder.”
“Call me whatever you like, but it won’t change my mind.”
“Your ears are closed tight, ain’t so? You don’t want to know more than what we’ve always believed.” She sighed. “Well, I’d like to know if there’s more than that—if God’s own truth’s behind what Manny’s preaching.”
He let go of her hand and leaned forward, the reins draped over the lap robe. “Nellie, it all boils down to this: My father would disown me if I left the church for this newfangled whatever it is. I’d have no way to make a living . . . for us. I’d lose everything. The land, my immediate family. Daed’s respect.”
“Well . . . you’d have
us
. We’d find a way somehow. Love can win out, jah?” she offered tentatively, yet the words sounded hollow even to her. She touched his arm. “Your land’s mighty important, sure it is. But how can land mean more to you than our life together?” Her voice shook with both sadness and frustration.
“I could ask the same of you. How can my goin’ to a meeting mean more to you than my reputation with my father . . . or the life we planned?” He leaned back, regarding her, his eyes softer now. He turned then to stare straight ahead and was quiet for a good, long time. “I’ve heard you out, Nellie. Now I’ll say what I must. I’ve never cared for a girl like I do for you.” He looked at her again, the muscles of his face quivering. “I wish we hadn’t fought . . . honest to goodness.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
He drew her into his embrace. “I’m fearful, love. I’m afraid of what could become of us.”
“It’s not enough that we love each other?”
He closed his eyes, blowing out a breath. “I think I’d best take you home now.”
“Jah, ’tis best,” Nellie Mae agreed. Quarreling had gotten them nowhere.
The wind rose up in the night, bringing with it freezing rain and snow. The wedding season was off to a bitter start.
Nellie gladly fulfilled her promise to Aunt Anna to help in the kitchen at the wedding she’d mentioned, filling up the week before it with as much work as daylight would allow. Neither her path nor her family’s crossed with Caleb’s at any of the all-day wedding celebrations Dat and Mamma chose to attend on the first Tuesday and Thursday, days set aside for weddings. For that she was truly sad.
She did see Caleb at the weekend cider-making frolic, his furtive gaze meeting hers. He seemed as willing to invite her to ride into the night as previously, but he did not care to hear her talk about the upcoming New Order youth gatherings. Already, a small group of youth had formed, thanks to the decision of many families to immediately accept the bishop’s offer. Nan had decided to attend tonight’s initial gathering, and for the first time, Nellie had found herself on her own, without any sisters at a frolic.
Nellie was aware of a small sorrow growing within as she wondered how she and Caleb could ever truly unite as man and wife when everyone around them seemed bent on division. She had been wholly honest with him and now must attempt to trust the Lord God for the outcome as Suzy might have. Yet she found herself increasingly given to silence, lest their relationship continue to be strained. Truly, there was simply too much at stake.
