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Authors: Marta Perry

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BOOK: The Rebel
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She shook her head. “I told the driver he should go. We'd already imposed enough on him.”

“I'll take you, then.”

“I can try to reach David and ask him . . .” she began, but Ben was already out the door before she could finish. Well, maybe he wanted the privacy of taking her home. Then he could tell her how wrong she was to involve an Englischer in their troubles.

“Good night.” She went around the table to hug Mary. “It will be all right,” she whispered.

Mary clung to her for a moment. “Denke,” she murmured.

Barbie walked out into the scented darkness, irresistibly reminded of the night Ben had kissed her. She could hear the jingle of the harness as he hitched up the buggy horse, but since she didn't have a flashlight, she waited where she was until he drove up and stopped next to her. He reached out a hand to help her up, and she grasped it to pull herself to the seat next to him.

It was no use thinking about how his touch made her feel. She'd lectured herself on that topic more than once, and it didn't seem to help. Funny, that she'd had so many men interested in her and the only one she could fall in love with was the man who was the least likely match for her in the world.

Folding her hands in her lap, Barbie pressed her lips together. She'd said and done all she could with Mary to undo the damage she'd done. There was nothing left to say, and if Ben wanted to chide her, she'd let him speak first.

That worthy resolve lasted only to the first bend in the road. Then she couldn't stand the silence any longer.

“Well? If you want to lecture me, go ahead and do it. I can take it.”

He turned toward her, but she couldn't make out his
expression in the shadow cast by the trees. “Why would I lecture you?”

“For starters, Mary wouldn't have gone to that party tonight at all if I hadn't let her down by preaching something I wasn't practicing. And then there's the fact that I got one of my Englisch friends to drive me out to the reservoir. That should be worth a few words.”

The horse's hooves clopped several times, and they moved from shadow into moonlight, bright enough that she could see him. The pain on his face was enough to shock her into silence.

“Ben . . .” Instinctively she reached out to him. He glanced at her hand and then wrapped his around it, holding on as if he'd never let go.

“How can I blame you when I'm the one at fault?” The grief in his voice shook her. “I'm the one who's been driving a wedge between myself and my sister by being so rigid she can't turn to me with her troubles.”

“Don't.” The feelings she'd been trying so hard to suppress seemed to burst to the surface. She put her other hand on top of his, holding it with both hands. “You're blaming yourself needlessly. Feeling responsible for Mary and everyone else in the church. You can't carry all that burden yourself.” She shook her head. “Mary is just like you, you know. She's been trying to fill your mother's shoes and blaming herself when she fails.”

That got through to him. He stared at her, letting the lines go slack, and the horse plodded on without his guidance. “Mary thinks that? But none of us expect that of her.”

“Of course you don't. Any more than the church expects you to take responsibility for every problem that comes along. But that's how you're made, and Mary is just like you.”

He looked down, staring at their hands. “Mary has no cause. But I . . . I know I failed. I couldn't deal with it when my wife died. I felt as if I had nothing left to give.”

“You needed time. That grief was too overwhelming to allow you to do anything else. People understand, just as you understand about Mary.”

She held her breath. He did understand what she was saying about the girl, didn't he? Poor Mary. She needed help and support, not more rules.

That was what Ben needed, too, but he'd probably never admit it.

“Daad said you had a generous heart. It's also an understanding one.” He drew to a stop at the pull-off by the entrance to the farm they were passing. “I have to ask you. Why did you go after the girls tonight?”

“I told you. Because I wanted to protect the community. Because I knew I'd let Mary down by my actions.” Her brow furrowed. Didn't he understand that much?

“I know.” His fingers moved against hers. “But what did it mean to you, to take that risk?”

He was asking for honesty, complete honesty. And he deserved it. He'd spoken to her about his own private struggles in a way he probably hadn't talked to anyone else.

“For the last year or so I've been struggling.” She spoke slowly, looking back, trying to find the beginning of her doubt. “I began to think that maybe I was like my brother James. That my dreams would lead me to the outside world.” There was a lump in her throat, and she tried to swallow it. “When I thought about what might happen tonight, I knew I could be risking my future in the church. It hit me then. In my heart, I am always Amish.
No matter what discipline I have to face. No matter if it means giving up my dreams of adventure. I am Amish.”

His taut face relaxed. “Ja. You are.” He raised her hand to his lips. “I know I have said some foolish things in my time. But one thing I see clearly now. You really are that perfect Amish woman you accused me of looking for.”

Her heart was beating so loudly she could hardly hear herself, and the ripples from the kiss he brushed on her hand spread up her arm, seeming to suffuse her whole body with awareness.

“Not perfect,” she managed to say. “But at least headed in the right direction.”

Ben seemed to study her face. He lifted his hand to stroke her cheek with one finger, and she trembled.

“You wanted adventure,” he said softly. “Living Amish in an Englisch world is always an adventure, I think.”

She thought of tonight's escape from the wailing sirens and smiled. “It is.”

“And there's another adventure you might want to take on.” He pressed his palm against her cheek, and her breath caught. “Loving. Risking your happiness on marriage and children. That's an adventure, ain't so?”

“A grand adventure,” she managed to say. “But no one has asked me yet.”

His smile seemed to contain all the sweetness in the world. “Ach, Barbie, how many ways can I say it? I love you. You bring joy and love into our lives just by being yourself. Will you be my wife?”

The happiness seemed to bubble through her, dancing along veins and muscles until she felt as if she'd float right off the buggy seat. She reached up to pull his face down to hers.

“That's the way that counts. I love you, too.”

She was going to say more, but his mouth covered hers, and anything else was lost in the delight of that kiss. It wasn't a surprise this time, but it was just as exciting as that first kiss had been.

Better, because this time it came with love and a promise. She leaned into his arms, knowing she was in the right place at last.

Ben's arms tightened around her until she thought he'd squeeze the breath right out of her. Finally he drew away just a little, still close enough that she felt his breath on her lips when he spoke.

“I don't think I can wait until November to be married to you. Maybe we can convince the ministers to let us have an out-of-season wedding.”

Her laugh was interrupted by a light kiss. “Since you're one of them, that might just be possible.” She sighed, relaxing against him, content to stay there, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

Her thoughts drifted to her grandmother's stories. She'd wondered, hadn't she, what insight her gift would bring to her. Maybe she knew.

She'd listened, and she'd learned that adventure didn't necessarily come from what you did. It came from living and loving in accordance with God's will.

He stirred. “I'd better take you home before your parents worry. Do you think they would like to be consulted?”

“I think they'd be delighted,” she said, longing to hear cool, reserved Benuel expose his feelings to Mamm and Daad. “Let's go home.”

Ben picked up the lines with one hand and wrapped the other around hers on the seat between them. He clicked to the gelding. Hands clasped, they rode toward home together.

E
PILOGUE

T
hey
were lucky Grossmammi's birthday was a warm day for October, Barbie thought, because the whole family couldn't possibly fit inside the house at the same time. They'd overflowed the daadi haus and the main house into the backyard at Rebecca's parents' place. Everyone was here, and she and Ben seemed to be getting almost as many good wishes on their recent wedding as Grossmammi was getting birthday wishes.

“Do you think it's too chilly out here for Grossmammi?” Cousin Judith paused next to her, carrying a tray of glasses. Judith was a bit of a worrier.

“I think I wouldn't want to tell her she needs to go inside,” Barbie said, and Judith smiled.

“Coward,” she teased.

“That's right, I am.” Barbie helped herself to a glass of lemonade from the tray. “Besides, she's well wrapped up, isn't she, Rebecca?”

Rebecca, her infant son cradled in her arms, nodded. “As well wrapped up as young Matthew,” she said.

Barbie bent over the infant, crooning to him. The baby's wide, milky-blue eyes tried to focus on her face. “Ach, he's a fine boy. But he's not going to let you enjoy the party for long without demanding something to eat.”

She was abruptly tackled around the legs. “Boppli,” Libby demanded. “See the boppli, Mammi.”

Barbie scooped Libby up in her arms, still sweetly surprised when Ben's little ones called her Mammi. “See? But don't touch.” She caught the chubby hand that reached for the baby's face.

“I want one,” Libby announced. Barbie flushed as her cousins laughed.

“Soon enough,” Rebecca said. “Give your Mammi some time.”

A ball bounced past, kicked by her brother James's little boy, and Libby wiggled to get down.

“Will you roll the ball to your cousin Libby, Kevin?”

The boy, who looked like James, grinned, showing his missing teeth, and nodded. “Okay, Aunt Barbie.”

“James's kinder seem gut with the little ones.” Ben stood next to her, his smile warm when she looked up at him. “I'm glad to see them fitting in so well.”

“I think they're amazed to find they have so many cousins.” She threaded her fingers through his. “It's wonderful gut to have James and his family here.” They'd become fairly regular visitors, and even James's wife, Andrea, now felt like one of the family.

Barbie's heart seemed to expand. Her family was growing before her eyes. And loving Ben seemed to have given her even more love in her heart to share, instead of less. She looked up at him, eyes dancing.

“I just heard my aunt saying how fine your sermons are since we've been married. Do I get any credit for it?”

He squeezed her hand. “Everything in my life is better now that you're my wife. Does that satisfy you?”

“It does. Just don't forget it,” she teased.

Rebecca nudged her. “Not to interrupt the newlyweds, but I'm thinking if the three of us talk to Grossmammi, we might convince her to move inside for a bit.”

“We can try.” Judith set down the glasses.

“We're her favorite granddaughters, aren't we?” With a glance at her husband, Barbie went with her cousins to the spot where their grandmother, well wrapped in shawls, sat in a rocker that had been brought out for her. A number of the younger children clustered around her.

The three of them paused at the fringe of the group, listening. Grossmammi was telling the story of the first Lapp family that had come over from Europe to build a new life.

Barbie found herself blinking back tears. Their grandmother seemed more fragile since she'd come home from the hospital in the spring, but she could still hold listeners enthralled with her stories.

As Grossmammi spoke, Barbie seemed to see the family spreading out in time and space—back into the past, forward into the future, and encompassing more and more members. The same spirit linked all of them—the spirit that lived so strongly in Grossmammi. It was based on the promise of faithfulness. The family would survive, because no matter where they went, they would follow the Lord.

R
ECIPES

Barbecued Venison

Many Amish enjoy hunting, not only for sport but also for the addition of meat to the family larder. This recipe is especially suited to the end pieces of venison.

2 pounds venison roast

1 tablespoon shortening

1 teaspoon onion flakes

¼ cup ketchup

2 teaspoons sugar

1 teaspoon mustard

1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce

2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar

1 teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon pepper

¼ cup water

Brown the venison roast slowly in the shortening in a heavy pot or Dutch oven. Mix the other ingredients and pour over the meat. Cover and simmer very slowly for at least 2 hours or until the meat begins to fall apart. It can also be roasted in the oven in a covered roasting pan at 275˚F for 2 hours. Makes 8 to 10 servings.

Ham Loaf

⅔ pound ground ham

1⅔ pounds ground pork

1 cup dry bread crumbs

¼ teaspoon pepper

2 beaten eggs

1 cup milk

Combine the meat, bread crumbs, pepper, eggs, and milk. Mix thoroughly, preferably with a mixer, until the combination is very fine. Form into a loaf in an 8½-inch loaf pan. Bake at 350˚F for 1 hour. Makes 6 to 8 servings.

Savory Pot Roast

This recipe is a shortcut version of sauerbraten, since it doesn't require the lengthy marinating that sauerbraten does.

3 pounds beef chuck or rump roast

1 tablespoon shortening

⅓ cup grape jelly

2 large onions, sliced

2 bay leaves

2 teaspoons salt

½ teaspoon allspice

½ teaspoon ginger

¼ teaspoon pepper

¼ cup water

⅓ cup apple cider vinegar

Brown the meat slowly on all sides in the shortening in a heavy pot or Dutch oven. Spread the grape jelly over the surface of the meat, top with the onion slices, and sprinkle with the seasonings. Mix together the water and vinegar and pour over the meat. Cover and cook very slowly for 2 to 3 hours until the meat begins to fall apart. Makes 8 to 10 servings.

BOOK: The Rebel
10.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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