The Miting (2 page)

Leah then offered a look of contrition to
Maem
, who merely pointed to the dishes left on the table, waiting to be washed. Suppressing a sigh, which would only resurrect angry feelings, Leah set about redding up the kitchen. A moment later she felt
Maem
’s hand on her shoulder.

“Leah, you have always been such a headstrong child. Please don’t let your stubborn and sinful nature get the best of you.”
Maem
softened her words with a smile before reaching down for her basket and garden shears. With one meal over, it was time to start planning for the next one.

“I promise to think about joining the church. Okay?”

Her mother paused and tucked a strand of damp hair back under her kerchief covering. “Don’t just think about it. Pray earnestly that your heart turns to
Gott
and that you will do it joyfully. Yes?”

Leah gave a short nod, turning to the table to gather the lunch dishes for washing. She watched through the kitchen window as her
maem
walked slowly across the yard.

Childhood memories of working beside
Maem
flashed through her mind—planting seeds in the spring and later pulling weeds to keep the rows neat; snapping green beans on hot, late-August afternoons; picking apples in the fall.
Maem
’s apron pockets had held secret sweets to reward her back then. Her mother wasn’t much for hugs or kisses—it wasn’t something her people did. But no matter what happened,
Maem
was always there to soothe away childhood hurts with her work-worn hands.

What kind of
maem
would Leah herself be one day? How would she deal with a daughter who dreamed of freedom and yearned for more than what farm life and rural living could offer? Would she understand a daughter’s yearning to shake off the traditions of Amish life?

A long line of ghostly forefathers seemed to hover over Leah’s shoulders, whispering their must-nots in her ears the livelong day. She shuddered. She was not rebellious by nature, and it hurt to know she was causing her
maem
pain.

“I really am trying
not
to be difficult,” she whispered as she washed. “I just don’t know what to think anymore.”

Later that afternoon, Leah was in the wood shop helping
Daet
with the billing when she heard a wagon come up the drive. Nervous anticipation fluttered inside her. At the last Sunday singing, Jacob Yoder had shown more than enough interest in Leah, but he hadn’t yet asked if he could take her home. Leah did not object to his attentions one bit.

The door swung open, and Jacob stepped in. She tried to control her keen awareness of him by pointing him to the back of the shop where
Daet
worked, but his impish dimple made it clear her nonchalant attitude hadn’t fooled him.

“Good afternoon, Jacob,”
Daet
called as he strolled out to the front of the workshop.

The men shook hands in greeting.

“Where do you want me to stack this cherry lumber?”

Daet
pulled at his beard. “Let me see. I had it over there next to the back wall, but I think, with the order of dining-room furniture I have yet to finish, I’d like it closer this time.” He scuffed out a spot to the right of the door. “This should work. It’ll be close to me but not in the way of the oak that’ll be coming next week.”

Daet
and Jacob worked side by side for several minutes in silence, while Leah forced herself to focus on the receipts. She could hear Jacob’s footfalls as he moved back and forth between the delivery wagon and the shop. Already she recognized his step: quick and sure. He had been bringing supplies to
Daet
for several months, earning extra money for his family. It was a given that, being the oldest son and a good farmer in his own right, Jacob would take over from his father someday. But for now, he was also adding to the family’s income by delivering lumber for Jonas Coblentz, the local lumber mill owner.

She glanced up in time to catch his glance as he passed the desk. The roguish dimple flashed as a friendly grin spread over his face. Leah held his gaze for a moment, taking in the broad shoulders, lean frame, and suntanned face. She could feel heat rising in her cheeks as Jacob’s eyes twinkled in amusement.

Daet
cleared his throat. “Uh, Jacob—”

“Yes?” Jacob broke his gaze to turn respectful eyes to Leah’s
daet.

“What are you and the other teens hearing about Martha Mast and her boyfriend, Abe Troyer?”

Leah’s eyes darted up, and
Daet
glanced her way, as if to be sure she had overheard his question.

Jacob shuffled his feet in the sawdust and kept his head down. Finally, he looked at
Daet
and then over at Leah. “We know she’s
rumspringen
with
Englishers
, and she’s not likely to join the church, John.”

“Not going to join the church! You think not?” asked
Daet
, alarmed.

Leah looked at the pile of bills in her hand.
Daet
had thought Martha was going wild, but she knew it had never occurred to him before today that she might leave the Amish for good.

Jacob resumed piling wood. “She says she’s not going to join, and Abe’s looking into getting a factory job in Richland because he wants to do something other than farm.”

“I don’t farm either, but in no way would I consider leaving my faith and all I know to be right just to do something different for work.”

Jacob shook his head. “Work isn’t the issue for him, John. He doesn’t like all the rules and ideas of the Amish anymore. He claims he wants his freedom.”

Leah watched
Daet
ponder Jacob’s words. The community would not consider Abe’s actions a simple rebellious
rumspringen
, as some of the less strict, higher church Amish might. He would be seen as a young man with sin in his heart and the Devil’s hand on his shoulder.

Daet
turned his gaze to Leah. “If Abe has Martha thinking like this, then maybe Martha is putting these same thoughts in your head, Leah.” He wagged his finger at her. “You should watch this friendship with her very carefully, Daughter. If she says anything against the church or the
Ordnung
, maybe we should get the bishop involved. Better to cause embarrassment or shame than to risk her soul.”

Leah lifted her chin in silent defiance. “I’ll remember that,
Daet.
”

He nodded, apparently satisfied with her response. “I’ll be right back. I have to get a tape measure.”

As he passed by her, he murmured under his breath, “A little time alone with Jacob won’t hurt, eh, Leah? You should be thinking of your future.”
Daet
left the shop, whistling.

The heat from the sunlight coming in the window behind her had nothing to do with the warmth in her face. Jacob kept stacking lumber, but Leah was sure he’d heard some of
Daet
’s whispered advice.

“Being married almost always ensures that the
jungen
join the church,”
he’d said many times. He’d even mentioned once, after Benny and Ada were in bed, a
daet
who had gone so far as to allow bed courtship. The father had claimed it “helped” his wayward daughter make up her mind, but Leah’s parents didn’t think a hurried marriage with an early baby were worth the shame or risk, no matter how rebellious a daughter might become.

Jacob walked over to Leah and leaned casually against the counter. His shirt cuffs were rolled up to his elbows. His face glistened with sweat in the heat of the shop, but he looked calm and collected.

“Your
daet
is really concerned about Martha.”

Leah frowned. “He and
Maem
think she’s influencing me with her wild ways, and … maybe … some of that
might
be true.”

She leaned in closer to Jacob, glanced at the door, and lowered her voice. “Do you ever have questions, Jacob, about all this, you know?” Her gesture took in the whole place.

Jacob shifted his weight, and when his gaze met hers, he was serious but gentle in his reproach. “Leah, you shouldn’t be so worried. Everything is
gut
; your parents have the best in mind for you. My parents do for me, too.”

“I don’t know why, but I’m restless, Jacob. Feeling trapped, in a way.”

His brown eyes looked into hers. He nodded. “It’s your age, I think. I went through that for a few weeks, but you’ll see. Soon you’ll be back to being your cheerful self.”

“So you plan to join the church this fall?” Leah asked, as she wiped her clammy palms on her apron.
Can he sense the indecision in my heart?

“Yes. Probably will. Can’t think of any reason not to, you know?”

Jacob twirled his straw hat. His work-hardened hands appeared older than the rest of him. He looked back at her merrily, and she couldn’t help but smile. One thing about Jacob Yoder: he could charm a person into anything. His wide, unaffected grin and sparkling eyes were everything friendly and warm. Laugh lines, accented by the tan he carried from being outside, added to his appeal.

Leah arranged the bills in a neat pile and stretched a rubber band around the ones that still needed to be paid. “I guess I should get back to the house and see what
Maem
wants me to do yet today.”

He nodded. “Always lots of chores on a Saturday—right? You going into town later?”

“I think so. We have to do some shopping for the singing tomorrow night.”

“It’s out here?”

“Yes. We offered to host in place of Miriam and Paul. They have church tomorrow, but with their new baby, we thought the young people shouldn’t bother them tomorrow night.
Maem
and
Daet
said it would be okay to have it here. You coming, Jacob?”

“You know it.” He winked, then turned back to stacking lumber.

As Leah passed
Daet
on her way to the house, he raised his eyebrows, not missing the grin she wore and knowing who was responsible for putting it there.

The Sunday night singing went as planned. The
jungen
sang their favorite hymns and songs, ate the cookies Leah made, and chatted in the between times. When the evening ended, Leah wished the singing had been hosted elsewhere so she’d have had an excuse to be driven home in Jacob’s buggy. She waved to friends as they drove away, some in couples, and some by themselves. Jacob drove off alone. Maybe he’d not be alone after the next singing.

C
HAPTER
T
WO

W
hat do you think about
rumspringen
—not just singings on Sunday night, but going to movies like English teens?”

Leah looked at her younger sister from behind the pants she was hanging on the line and blinked against the sun. “What do you mean? Why are you asking me that?”

Ada shrugged. “I just wondered, is all. I mean, I’m going to be fifteen soon, just one more year. I’d like to know what
Maem
and
Daet
think about it.”

Leah turned to hang another pair of denim work pants. She shook out the damp wrinkles and pegged the pants tightly to the line. “Why? Are you thinking of trying it? Sunday singings are okay, but I think you know how
Maem
and
Daet
feel about anything else. No one wants to see their kids go off and do something they don’t approve of, and our church doesn’t even believe in
rumspringen
—not the way Martha’s doing it. What the church doesn’t allow,
Maem
and
Daet
certainly won’t allow.”

Ada’s chin tilted down, hiding her expression as she smoothed the wrinkles from a worn shirt she had pegged to the line, then pulled a wet vest out of the basket. “I just wonder sometimes if I could keep going to school.”

The wistful expression in her sister’s eyes pained Leah. Smart girls like Ada suffered the most when Amish schooling came to an end in eighth grade. But there was no point in discussing it. Railing against the unfairness would not change the rules about school. By next year, Ada would be finished with her education, and there was no chance of studying beyond that. A deep sigh from Ada indicated she had reached the same conclusion.