Holding a Tender Heart Page 9

“Ready to go inside?” Joe asked, causing Verna to flinch. Joe laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “I’m a little jumpy tonight,” Verna said.

  Joe didn’t say anything to this, but he looked toward the barn as they walked to the house. Finally he said, “Your daett and Emery really keep things up well around here.”

  “Yah, I suppose so.” Verna held open the front door.

  “With him being a bishop and all,” Joe continued, “seems like that would take up plenty of time in itself.” He walked into the house and hung his hat on a wall hook by the door.

  “It does.” Verna closed the door behind them. Right now she didn’t want to think about Daett’s bishop duties or about what she had to tell Joe. But she couldn’t avoid it forever. She motioned with her hand toward the couch. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

  His smile never dimmed as she left him. Joe expected shoofly pie again, she was sure. And a full pie sat on the kitchen table. But she wouldn’t be able to get a bite down herself, nor did she think she could sit on the couch and smile while Joe ate. She couldn’t feed a man and stab him afterward. Better the truth first. They could make up afterward because she was sure this wouldn’t go well. The throb of her heart was all the proof she needed of that.

  Verna gathered herself together and slipped back into the living room.

  Joe looked up. The surprised expression on his face grew as he took in her empty hands.

  “I’m sorry, Joe,” she whispered. “I have something that needs saying first, and then I have shoofly pie in the kitchen…and ice cream also, if you want it.”

  His surprise changed to alarm. “Verna, what is it?” He moved closer.

  She kept her gaze on the floor. “Daett found out about your driving of the Englisha vehicles at the auction in Belleville. Deacon Mast will be over next Saturday to ask for your confession at church. Daett suggested you make the trip over to Deacon Mast’s place first.”

  She took a quick glance at his face. It was dark and troubled.

  His voice trembled as he accused her. “You told your Daett what I told you, Verna? That was said to you in confidence!”

  She tried to take in a deep breath. “Nee, Joe. Daett found out from someone else.”

  “But who would say such a thing?”

  “I don’t know. Really, I don’t. Daett doesn’t tell us much about such church matters.”

  “Your daett must be better at keeping things to himself than his daughter is then.”

  Verna flinched at the bite in his voice. “Surely you don’t think that I…”

  “What else am I to think?” Joe cut in, his face reflecting hurt and anger. “It’s hard to imagine anything else, Verna. Perhaps you let it slip somehow. Or you asked your daett his opinion of a man who would do such a thing. Are you worried about my character, Verna? Is that what it is?”

  Joe had risen, and Verna rose to. She almost grabbed his hands, but remembered she had no such privileges. This was only her second time home with him. Oh, why had she even opened her mouth? Perhaps there was an easier way to handle this. Her voice sounded shrill in her ears. “Joe, please! It’s not like that at all. Daett found out from someone else, and I don’t know who it was.”

  He clearly wasn’t convinced. He took a step toward the front door.

  Verna followed. “Don’t doubt me, Joe! I hated to tell you. But I thought it would be much worse if you found out later that I knew about this and didn’t tell you.”

  He stared at her and then grabbed his hat from the hook. “I had hoped for better things between us, Verna. I’m sorry, but I trusted you and you betrayed that trust. No one else knew about my driving at the auction. I’ve told no one but you.” Joe let the words hang as he walked out the door.

  Verna rushed outside on the porch and followed his dark form with her gaze. He crossed the lawn and untied his horse. What had gone wrong? What had she said to make things this bad? Not in her worst imagination had Joe left without a chance to talk things out.

  Joe’s buggy lights came on as he swung it around in a tight turn in the driveway. Verna heard him say “Get up!” and Isaiah took off. She didn’t move until they were out of sight. Her feet seemed frozen to the porch floor. The slight spring breeze that blew across her face felt like a winter blast in January.

  This couldn’t be her fault. It simply couldn’t. What had Joe said? Something about expecting better things between them. Had this been the quarrel with Rosy? Had Rosy spilled confidences about him? It must be that. Nothing else made the least bit of sense. And now Joe was gone. She wanted to cry and run into the night after him. She wanted to find him, hold on to the buggy lines, and beg him to return. But none of that was possible. Joe had left, and she was a twenty-four-year-old without prospects again. Now no man would come within a mile of the house on a Sunday night. Not after this news leaked into the community…this tale of a bishop’s daughter who tattled on her boyfriend to keep him in line. What man would desire such a woman for his frau? No man would desire a bishop for a father-in-law who would haunt every waking minute of his life.

  Verna moved off the porch and took small steps across the yard. Where she was going, she had no idea. Away from the house for a while…and away from people. Away from the pain wracking her chest. But there could be no escape from that no matter where she walked. She passed the barn, its silhouette stark against the star-filled sky. She glanced over her shoulder and paused at the sight of the full moon on the horizon. Its glow flooded the sky and would soon fill the dark fields with soft light. She kept walking. Open fields stretched out in front of her for miles, dotted with the occasional shadows of homesteads. Debbie’s place had a single light on in an upstairs window. Its electric haze flooded onto the lawn. A sob caught in Verna’s throat, and she headed in the other direction. Soon she found her way along the path that led to the back pastures. “Dear Hah,” she prayed out loud as her eyes swept the starry heavens, “somehow You have to help me. All of us really. Daett is so burdened with his church work it’s almost like he’s forgotten how to trust people. Yet what do I know about anything? I’m still young, but I feel so old. What am I going to do if this misunderstanding with Joe can’t be solved? And what hope is there of clearing it up? Joe wouldn’t listen to me. I don’t how to speak with a man, so what use would it be for me to try again?”

  With slow steps she moved further away from the buildings. She allowed the pain inside to overwhelm her. Better to have a breakdown out here where no one could hear her than inside the house. Verna jumped when the sound of flapping wings burst from the fencerow, and a dark shadow flew across the fields. A nighthawk—perfectly harmless—but still she walked away from the fence. In the distance the forms of the horses came into focus as the first of the moon’s rays crept across the field.

  Verna watched until the moon had risen high enough that the shadows of the horses moved when they did as they grazed. Joe would be leaving about now if things had gone as they should have. She should turn back. Perhaps a good night’s sleep would help—if she could sleep at all. Tomorrow morning would be here before long, whether she wished for it or not. Life would go on. Mamm would be up before dawn to begin the Monday wash, and she would expect all of them to perform their regular chores. Only the most severe of sorrows interrupted that flow, and Verna knew this was not one of those.

  In fact, she should be ashamed of herself. Many a girl had her boyfriend walk out on her. Some of them with longer relationships than she had with Joe. Hadn’t Joe experienced rejection by Rosy after they’d dated for two years? She should take that into consideration. Perhaps his heart hadn’t yet fully healed. Was he distrustful of women now because of Rosy?

  Verna walked back toward the house with the moonlight in her face. Her steps quickened the closer she came. She opened the washroom door and slipped in. She tried to cross the kitchen floor without noise. Still Mamm’s bedroom door squeaked open as Verna blew out the kerosene lamp in the living room. Her ma
mm’s form appeared.

  “Verna, is that you?”

  “Yah, Mamm. I’m going upstairs.”

  “It’s past twelve o’clock, and you have no light.”

  “I just blew it out, Mamm.”

  “Did Joe just leave?”

  “He left a long time ago, Mamm. I was outside walking by myself in the moonlight.” She couldn’t hide her pain from Mamm. Besides, mothers eventually found out the whole story anyway.

  “You had best relight the lantern and tell me what happened,” Mamm said as she settled on the couch. “I want to see you while we talk.”

  Verna lit the lamp but kept her back turned toward Mamm. She needed to get herself together first. Finally setting the lamp on the table, Verna sat down and told the whole story, right up to Joe’s sudden departure.

  “Daett will have to deal with this,” Mamm said once Verna finished.

  “But what can he do? I messed this up myself.”

  “There’s a lot your daett can do. He can tell Joe where he got the information, and that ought to clear the matter.”

  “Mamm, I don’t know. It’s all gone wrong now. Joe doesn’t trust me. You don’t have to bother Daett about this. It won’t do any good.”

  Mamm smiled. “Daett’s not going to eat me alive, Verna. I’ve lived with him for many years. Church matters have always weighed heavy on his heart, and he believes in confidentiality. I may not be able to convince him to talk to Joe, but I will try.”

  Verna sobbed gently. “It’s no use, Mamm. It must be Da Hah’s will for me to never have a husband…never have a family.”

  “Now, now, you mustn’t say that, Verna. Things are changing around here.” Mamm touched Verna’s arm. “Your daett will understand. It’s hard enough to get a gut man without chasing one away unnecessarily.”

  “Then you think Joe is a gut man even if Daett doesn’t?”

  When Mamm nodded, Verna reached over and gave her a long hug.

  “Yah, Joe Weaver’s a gut man,” Mamm whispered. “Now get to bed. We have a full day tomorrow.”

  “Yah, Mamm,” Verna said through her tears. She found her way upstairs as Mamm blew out the kerosene lamp. When Verna got to her room, she stood by the window for a few moments, letting the moonlight wash over her again. Her heart had been comforted with Mamm’s words. Da Hah had heard her prayer out in the pasture, and perhaps He would soon answer. “Please let it be so,” she whispered toward the star-filled sky. “I don’t want to lose Joe.”

  Twelve

  The following Saturday found Debbie unloading suitcases from the back of her car onto the graveled driveway at the Beilers’ house.

  When the last suitcase was on the ground, the front door burst open and Lois bounced out. “You’re early! We just finished eating breakfast. I thought you’d be sleeping in!”

  Debbie straightened her back. “I couldn’t sleep. I’m too excited!”

  “So am I!” Lois raced up to give Debbie a hug. “I’ll help you carry these in. They’re all going in my room, remember?”

  “Do you think this is wise, Lois?” Debbie said as she hesitated. “An Englisha girl has lots of clothing. And there’s only one closet.”

  “My clothes only take up one tiny corner.” Lois held her fingers inches apart. “And whatever won’t fit can go into the cedar chest or one of the empty bedrooms.”

  Debbie smiled. “This is so thoughtful of you. I know I’ll love this more than I can ever say.” Debbie knew she’d eventually need to pare down her wardrobe. That would be part of the adjustment toward the life she really wanted. It was a joy—even the thought of it. Downsizing! At home she was required to constantly purchase new outfits. Here the women wore the same dresses until they wouldn’t hold together any longer.

  Lois dismissed the praise with a wave of her hand. “It’s nothing, Debbie. So which suitcase goes first?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Debbie said. They all looked huge right now. Way too much stuff. She felt like she should grab half of them and race right down to the Goodwill Store and toss them into the donation dumpster. But Lois was already dragging one of the suitcases toward the house. Besides, the Amish made changes after long thought and contemplation. Debbie would begin by learning from them this most simple of lessons. Tonight after she had plenty of time to think, she would sort through her clothing. She pulled the last suitcase from the trunk as Verna and Ida came out of the house. They greeted her with cries of “Gut morning!” from the front porch.

  “You are such dear friends to share your home with me,” Debbie said as she ran forward to give them both long hugs. She took a step back. “Well, here I am! Tons of luggage and all.”

  Verna and Ida beamed. They followed her back to the car to grab a suitcase apiece. Debbie paused to close the trunk and shut the doors. She caught up with the two in a short sprint while carrying the final suitcase.

  Saloma met them at the door. “So you made it! Everything okay, Debbie?”

  Of course I did! Debbie wanted to say. I’m determined. She gave Saloma a quick hug instead. The three Beiler girls disappeared up the stairs.

  “It’s so gut to have you in our home,” Saloma said.

  Debbie smiled and then turned her head as a buggy came into the driveway. She stiffened when she caught a glimpse of the man’s face, especially when she caught his eye.

  “That’s Alvin Knepp. Do you know him?” Saloma asked.

  “No…ah…yes…that is, I know who he is. That’s all.” How was she supposed to explain? Why was Alvin Knepp at the Beilers’ place on a Saturday morning? Had destiny already crossed their paths…or Da Hah, as the Amish would say? A warm flush spread over her face as she stepped into the house. Saloma looked puzzled, which was understandable. What Englisha girl turned red upon seeing an Amish man, even if he was good looking? Hopefully Saloma wouldn’t ask any questions.

  Bishop Beiler greeted Debbie from his rocker. “Gut morning!”

  Debbie returned the greeting, adding, “I’m so happy to be here. Thank you again for allowing this.”

  The bishop nodded.

  “Alvin Knepp just drove in,” Saloma announced.

  “Ach, yah.” Bishop Beiler rose. “He’s probably bringing back the singletree he borrowed while his was being repaired. I hope he hasn’t broken it.”

  “The Knepps are such a poor family,” Saloma said, turning toward Debbie as if she needed an explanation. “They started borrowing from us a while back. I guess they figured out we’re the only ones who will loan things without giving sermons.” A pleased look spread over Saloma’s face. “The rest of the community thinks there’s still hope the Knepp family might improve their ways. Adam, on the other hand, is glad someone doesn’t make problems regarding obeying the Ordnung…even if they can’t seem to get their hay in without it getting wet.”

  Just great, Debbie thought. So Lois was correct about the Knepps’ status. And I’m infatuated with an inept Amish farmer. No wonder Mom has no confidence in my judgment.

  “Do the Knepps keep the Ordnung well?” Debbie ventured as Saloma led the way upstairs.

  Saloma gave a short chuckle. “They cling to it like it’s their last hope in this world. Adam says he wishes he had a whole community of people like them.”

  At least she recognized dedication when she saw it, Debbie told herself. And wasn’t that what she wanted? Purpose in life? And what did money matter? She’d seen enough of what money purchased. Happiness and contentment weren’t even near the top of the list. But she had to stop these romantic thoughts about an Amish man she didn’t even know. What were the chances Alvin would pay her more than a sideways glance. None! When it came right down to it, she wasn’t even Amish, and now that she knew the Knepps stuck to the Ordnung she’d better forget about Alvin. But why had Alvin looked her way in such a forthright manner this morning? Debbie wondered. She was sure he’d had intensity in his gaze when he recognized her. Or was that just wishful thinking?

  At the top of the landing, Sal
oma said, “Lois said you two were going to share her room.” She led the way into Lois’s bedroom where happy chatter was pouring forth.

  “Okay, girls, quiet down,” Saloma ordered gently.

  Debbie walked in with her suitcase in front of her. Lois bounced up from one of the twin beds set against the wall. Verna and Ida waited beside the suitcases they’d carried up. Debbie slipped hers under the other twin bed. It contained her makeup kit—her large makeup kit. The thought hadn’t occurred to her before, but she was sure makeup wasn’t appropriate in an Amish household. She didn’t wish to tempt any of the Beiler daughters, especially Lois. And if the bishop found out, perhaps he wouldn’t tolerate such a worldly thing in his house. But her quick movement with the suitcase hadn’t escaped Lois’s eye, Debbie noticed. She would have to deal with Lois later.

  “I think I’ll unpack these suitcases right now. I’ll put the things that don’t fit in the closet out here on the bed. Maybe you can help me figure out where to put them, Lois. Or I can give them away.” But Lois’s attention had been drawn away from Debbie.

  “Who’s visiting, Mamm?” Lois asked as she peered out the bedroom window.

  “Alvin Knepp,” Saloma said from the doorway. “He came to bring back what he borrowed last Saturday,”

  “Oh, that man.” Lois turned up her nose. “I’m surprised his buggy holds together enough to drive over here.”

  Saloma responded at once. “That’s not a Christian attitude, Lois. The Knepp family has many gut characteristics. For one thing, they’re faithful church members who appreciate our ways and don’t envy the Englisha.” Saloma gazed at Lois, and then she left the room, going back downstairs.

  Clearly Lois got the message directed to her. She stepped away from the window with a hurt look on her face. The words must have stung more than she wished anyone to know.

  Debbie slipped over to Lois’s side and gave her a quick hug. “Your mother didn’t mean it quite like that, I don’t think.”

  “Mean what?” Ida asked, already busily hanging Debbie’s dresses in the closet.