The Englisher (23 page)

Never,
she thought.

‘‘The Lord Jesus go with you, Esther.’’ Julia watched as Esther lifted John out of the bed and stood him on his feet, the two-year-old whimpering softly, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

‘‘And with you, Julia.’’

‘‘You know you’re always welcome at our church . . . let us know if you would like a ride there, or whatever you need.’’

‘‘I doubt I’d ever be allowed to go, considering the children.’’

‘‘Well, if so, Irvin and I are here for you. Please keep in touch.’’

‘‘Jah, I will.’’ Tears blinded her vision. Then, suddenly, she was leaning on Julia’s shoulder.

‘‘Prayer is powerful . . . always remember,’’ Julia whispered. ‘‘ ‘For the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and His ears are open unto their prayers.’ ’’ Julia kissed her cheek, and then those of the children.

‘‘I best be hurryin’,’’ Esther said, reaching down to lift John before asking Laura to take Zach’s hand down the steps.

‘‘Jesse and Barbara will look after you.’’ Julia stopped short of saying more.

For the time being, Esther felt protected. After her arrival home, she could only imagine what she would face.

Chapter 19

S
he had not been a spiteful child. Esther knew she had been a joy to her parents’ hearts. But now . . .
now
she felt just horrid, wishing Irvin and Julia had spared her from returning to Zeke.

Slowly she made her way inside the house, carrying the baby and holding little John’s hand. Laura and Zach followed behind, dawdling, and she knew why. Preacher Jesse and Barbara helped carry the few things they’d taken with them to the Rancks’ place and set the overnight bag on the kitchen floor. There was also a suitcase, borrowed from Julia, with the items of clothing Esther had sewn for her children and herself while there. A pillowcase full of toys and books Julia had purchased had been left behind in the Rancks’ attic, as well as several crocheted items.

‘‘Hullo, Preacher,’’ she heard Zeke call out to Jesse when he saw him. The two men shook hands good-naturedly, though Zeke’s eyes were on her as she sat near the table with Essie Ann in her arms.

The kitchen looked remarkably clean for her having been gone so long. She wondered if perhaps Zeke had asked her mother to come over and scrub things up some.

Barbara pulled out a chair nearby, calling to Zach to come sit on her knee. But Zach and John hurried away, with Laura following them into the next room, and Esther heard the lid on the toy box creak open.

‘‘They seem content to be home,’’ Barbara offered.

For a time maybe,
thought Esther.
Till their father shouts
at their mother or pulls their hair and drags them across the room
. But she dismissed thoughts of their wretched past, trusting for a new beginning. Now that she was a child of the living God, her hope for a more suitable life with Zeke was becoming stronger. Still, she felt weary just entering this house, sitting here, looking around at all she’d left behind to escape Zeke’s wrath, if only for a season.

When Preacher and Barbara said their good-byes, Esther tried to be as pleasant as always, but she could feel the tension in her face and neck. Her entire body strained under the awareness of her old surroundings, despite Zeke’s grinning his welcome.

‘‘You’re home,’’ he said, looking her over but good.

‘‘Jah . . . home’’ was all she could say.

On Monday, Annie was careful not to jingle-jangle the bell on the door of the tack shop more than necessary, thinking it best not to draw attention to herself, since several men were standing around. But after a quick scan of the shop, she saw that Ben was nowhere in sight.

Quickly she headed for the window, facing out toward snow-covered fields, keenly aware of the smell of leather mixed with oil and a hint of tobacco rising off the farmers’ woolen work coats.

Oh, I must at least catch a glimpse of him
.

She straightened, wondering now if her trip here was to be a waste of time. But, no, she wouldn’t think selfishly— she still had an exchange to make for her father.

Slowly she wandered through the shop, stopping to look at the assortment of bins filled with bridle accessories. A variety of horse collar paddings in different colors—she couldn’t help noticing the brightness of reds and blues.

Is Ben at work today?

She pushed a smile onto her face, staying aloof from the other customers, a large group of them now heading for the door. Was it safe to search the shop for him?

She felt suddenly shy. But Ben Martin was her friend, or had been.

Just when she was about to approach the counter and return the bridle rosettes to someone other than Ben, she heard his voice.

‘‘Annie . . . it’s great to see you!’’

She turned and there he was, smiling. ‘‘I’ve come to return this.’’ She pushed the paper bag toward him. ‘‘Daed picked up someone else’s bridle rosettes—he wants the ones with the little peacocks.’’ She couldn’t help but smile. ‘‘I wonder why.’’

His eyes shone as he took the bag from her. ‘‘I’m glad you’re here,’’ he said with a lowered voice. ‘‘I’ve wanted to talk with you about something . . . important. I have a few questions about your Plain customs.’’

She breathed in the dense aroma of the harness shop. ‘‘Ask me now.’’

‘‘Well, it’s rather complicated. It could take more than a few minutes.’’

His eyes were earnest. He must have legitimate questions. She frowned, because at second glance he seemed almost tormented.

He leaned near. ‘‘It’s regarding Zeke Hochstetler.’’

She had told herself she would never see him again, but Ben’s request seemed urgent, and she worried there was possibly more trouble for Esther.

All right,
she told herself.
This doesn’t count
.

‘‘I’ll talk with ya, Ben. When?’’

‘‘Tonight?’’

She nodded. ‘‘After supper?’’

‘‘What time would that be . . . for you, I mean?’’

She stopped to think when she’d be finished eating and with kitchen chores. ‘‘About six-thirty or so.’’

‘‘Sounds fine.’’ He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her. ‘‘Where should we meet?’’

‘‘Same place . . . just farther up. Near the big white pine tree on the north side of the road.’’

He nodded as if he knew which one.

‘‘It’s the largest tree round these parts. Some say it’s nearly four hundred years old.’’

‘‘You seem to know trees, Annie.’’

She shrugged. ‘‘A little, maybe. But you should talk to Zeke ’bout foliage and whatnot.’’ She waved to him then and headed toward the door, feeling suddenly tongue-tied.

‘‘Annie . . . didn’t you forget something?’’ He held up the small sack with the wrong bridle rosettes inside.

She felt ever so foolish.
He must surely know how he
affects me
.

‘‘Oh, puh! I forgot what I came for.’’

She walked back to the counter, unable to prevent her smile.
I’ll see him tonight!
her heart sang.

Lou and I are two peas in a pod . . . both attracted to fellas
we can’t have
. Her throat suddenly felt terribly dry.
Am I a
Dummkopp
to meet Ben?

He was pleased Annie had agreed to see him, and marveled at the landmark tree she had chosen for their meeting spot. The towering white pine must have been seventy feet high, its blue-tinted evergreen boughs spreading a good thirty feet. He parked his car beneath it, opening the door and getting out to wait for Annie.

He would have preferred it if she didn’t have to walk all this way to the car, and on such a cold day, even though the afternoon had been fairly sunny.

She was right on time, and he could not suppress his excitement at first sight of her as she rounded the bend, wearing snow boots, a long black coat, gray gloves, and a blue-and-gray plaid scarf wrapped around her slender neck.
All we need now is a toboggan,
he thought, wishing they might have some fun together instead of the heavy discussion ahead.

He waved, moving toward her, wanting to help her along, even though the road was now nearly clear of snow.

She greeted him with a smile but did not speak, and for a good portion of the drive she remained silent. He rambled, taking the opportunity to tell about his first-ever mud sale . . . the several household tools and a small phone table he had bid on and won.

Then, when he could think of nothing else to say, he brought up what Zeke had told him about his brother’s strange disappearance and death. ‘‘The boy’s body was dumped in an Amish field nearby,’’ he said slowly. ‘‘Zeke told me this.’’

‘‘Wha-a-t?’’ she gasped, covering her mouth. ‘‘Oh, surely not. When did this happen?’’

He looked at her, realizing their conversation would be less askward if he pulled over somewhere—at a fast food place, perhaps . . . anywhere.

As he drove, eyeing the various options for parking the car, he summarized what Zeke had told him about the shocking discovery of a child’s body and the hushed-up burial. It seemed to drive Zeke mad.

‘‘I can’t believe it. Zeke’s brother is actually dead?’’ Annie whispered, pressing her hand against her chest. ‘‘I always worried it was so, but now . . .’’

It was all he could do not to reach over and pull her into his arms. She was shaking now, trembling from head to toe.

‘‘This is the most terrible thing,’’ she said. ‘‘Knowing Zeke and Esther as I do, it’s doubly difficult.’’

She began to cry, unable to speak.

He turned into the nearest parking spot, leaving the engine running to provide heat. Then, reaching for her hand, he held it firmly in his own, glad she did not pull away. ‘‘This information is not to be disclosed, Annie. For some reason it is to be kept secret, known only by your church brethren.’’

‘‘My father knows of this?’’ A look of horror crossed her face. ‘‘Oh, Ben!’’ She struggled further, letting go his hand to look for a handkerchief in her coat pocket.

Wiping her eyes, she sighed. ‘‘Why wasn’t this announced from the housetops? The People would want to know. They would!’’

He explained that the only reason he had told her was to solicit her advice. ‘‘Since I don’t know the inner workings of your community. . . . I don’t want to sound selfish, but I don’t know what to do about a request Zeke made of me.’’

‘‘Well, what’s that?’’

He wanted to hold her hand again but would not use her emotional state as an excuse. ‘‘Zeke wants me to go to the police. He’s anxious for the murderer to be found . . . and every day that passes makes it harder.’’

‘‘But if the death happened all those years ago, what’s it matter?’’

‘‘That may be precisely the thinking behind keeping the death quiet, I don’t know.’’ He told her he was in favor of making the call to the police. ‘‘But there is the problem of Zeke’s being shunned, too, if this gets out . . . and how difficult would the news be for your church folk if it should be known that Zeke was behind my reporting to the local authorities?’’

Suddenly he thought of detectives combing the quiet farmland for clues, disturbing the peace. ‘‘What should I do, Annie?’’

‘‘I’m glad you came to me with this.’’ She turned completely in the passenger’s seat, studying his face, her eyes lingering. She had warmed to him; he was sure of it. ‘‘You must follow my father’s wishes, Ben. Tell Zeke no.’’

‘‘Can you explain?’’

‘‘The will of the Lord God and heavenly Father of us all, is the only explanation I can offer,’’ she began, going on to say it was imperative for the People to revere and obey the church leaders.

‘‘Even when it goes against the legal system?’’

‘‘The People aren’t obligated to answer to the world. When the brethren deem things ought to be a particular way, then it’s best to follow.’’ She shook her head slowly, and there was a catch in her throat. ‘‘And Zeke knows better than to pull you in on this.’’

‘‘Does his temper often get the better of him?’’

‘‘Sadly so. I’ve heard bits and pieces from Esther.’’ Annie looked down at her folded hands.

‘‘Is he abusive? Cruel?’’

Annie nodded slowly.

‘‘I assumed it,’’ he said.

‘‘Best be keepin’ that quiet, too.’’

He looked at her fondly. Sad or not, she was absolutely beautiful. He held his breath to keep himself in check.

‘‘I won’t contact the police,’’ he heard himself say.

‘‘Denki, Ben. Thank you ever so much.’’ She touched his arm, the slight pressure sending a charge of electricity through it.

‘‘No, it is I who must thank you, Annie.’’ He didn’t attempt to explain, but he felt she understood.

He must put his hands on the steering wheel and drive her home now that he had the direction he needed. It was unfathomable why he should be sympathetic to the wishes of these so-called brethren of Annie’s. Yet he wanted to do what was best, in the long run, for his troubled friend Zeke.

During the drive back, Annie talked nearly nonstop. By the time he turned onto Frogtown Road, he practically thrilled to hear her words: ‘‘This must be our secret, Ben. Ours alone.’’

He readily gave his promise. He cared about Annie’s People, with their confusing yet simple ways. More than anything, he wanted to soak up every aspect of the Plain life, to share in its meanings—riddles or not—and he wanted to spend as much time doing so with Annie as she would allow.