Susan sat on the soft seat of the Amtrak train watching the steep grades and valleys of West Virginia’s Appalachian Mountains go by. The train climbed the ridges, seeming to cling to the side of the mountain for long stretches before dropping downward again. Baby Samuel was sleeping in Susan’s lap, nestling up against her shoulder. Teresa, her face weary, had her seat all the way back in a reclining position.
Christmas was behind them and now their long-planned trip had finally come to pass.
It had been interesting to experience a real Englisha Christmas at Laura’s.
Susan smiled to imagine if Mamm and Daett could have seen her standing around Laura’s Christmas tree, opening presents, they would have thought for sure they had lost her forever.
She could never tell them how much fun it had been. She had even enjoyed the last minute shopping at the mall, bursting with other last-minutes shoppers.
Back home, Mamm and Daett would have been gathered around the table having one or two of the older girls and their families over for the big meal. She had missed that, and if she stayed in the Englisha world, she would always miss it. Both worlds—the Amish and the Englisha—had their own particular delights. If only she could have both.
Jostling the baby only slightly to not awaken him, Susan reclined her seat. Perhaps she could catch a few minutes of sleep before Samuel stirred again. He had been restless all night, but then what could be expected from an infant taken on a long overland trip by two inexperienced girls?
Samuel moved against Susan’s chest, and she held still. He rubbed at his closed eyes with his hand, wrinkling his face as if ready to cry. Susan reached for the seat position button but stopped when Samuel settled down. Minutes later he was sleeping again.
Susan closed her eyes and drifted off. She dreamed of open fields, of snow blown in great drifts against a barn door, of struggles to clear a path from the house to the barn, of cows lowing in agony from swollen udders.
She saw her daett in front of her, shoveling fast, throwing snow off to the side until the bank was higher than he was. Offering to take her turn, her face wrapped in shawls and mufflers, she felt her fingers becoming colder and colder as she hurled snow. No matter how hard they worked, the wind drove the snow back faster than they could remove it.
“We’ll have to get back to the house,” her daett said. “It’s useless trying to reach the barn.”
Susan turned to look toward the house, and the way back was as bad as the way forward.
“What shall we do?” she gasped.
Her daett, the one who knew all the answers, who never hesitated regardless of the circumstances, sat down in the snow and threw up his hands in despair. She was the one who would have to decide.
“The wind will let up in a bit,” she hollered at him. “We can make it then.”
He got to his feet, staggering forward, and fell face down in the snow. She took his hand, pulling him upward, but he didn’t move. Kneeling beside him, she tried to listen to his breathing, but she couldn’t hear anything in the roar of the wind. Great blinding sheets of snow came over the drifts and already covered her daett’s legs and hands.
“Mamm!” she screamed. She sat bolt upright.
Samuel jumped in her arms and bawled at the top of his voice. Beside her, Teresa too had jolted awake.
“What’s wrong? Why did you scream?” Teresa asked, frightened.
“I was dreaming,” Susan said, rocking Samuel gently as his little voice filled the train car.
Irritated faces turned in their direction, and one younger couple whispered to each other.
We must look like a bedraggled traveling party, Susan thought. Two young women on the train with a small child, with no husband in sight. And one of us dressed like an Amish girl. Well, that is how it will have to stay.
Susan’s Englisha dresses were in the bottom of her suitcase where her mamm would never see them. And if she did, Susan hoped she would assume they belonged to Teresa.
Teresa had wanted an Amish type dress for the trip, but Susan didn’t think that was the best. It would be gut for her mamm and daett to see Teresa as an Englisha girl first. Changes could come later.
“Where are we?” Teresa asked, interrupting her thoughts.
Susan looked at Samuel. He was nestled against her, quiet again. “I’m not sure,” Susan said. “The last I knew we were somewhere in the mountains of West Virginia.”
“I think we still are,” Teresa said, looking out to the window. “How long until we get to Indiana?”
“We’ll be getting there late tonight on the bus, which we get on in Cincinnati,” Susan said. “The train doesn’t go close enough to Salem.”
“Susan, do you really think they will want me?” Teresa asked, not for the first time.
Susan reached out and touched Teresa’s arm. “Of course they do, Teresa. They invited you.”
Teresa still looked worried. “Have you called them?”
“I called from Laura’s place. Everything will be fine. I hope you like it there. It’s quite a change from the city.”
“I know I will!” Teresa said. “And I’m sure everyone will like Samuel. He’s such a wonderful baby!”
“And you’ll love Mamm and Daett,” Susan said. “And the farmhouse we live in is warm, even in the winter. It’s old and creaky but cozy.”
“I know I’ll love the place—and your parents too, of course. They must be wonderful people to have a daughter like you.”
“I want you to write your mother as soon as we arrive,” Susan said, touching Teresa’s arm. “I know she’s worried about you.”
As silence settled over them, Teresa dropped off to sleep again. Eventually Susan did likewise, having quieted Samuel.
She awoke to see flat land rolling past the window. Teresa was already awake, with Samuel on her lap. He was waving his arms around.
“I fed Samuel,” Teresa said.
“Are you hungry?” Susan asked.
Teresa nodded. “Can we go to the diner?”
“It’s kind of expensive,” Susan said. “But I guess we have no choice. We should have brought more food from the bakery.”
They stepped out of their seats, and Susan led the way through the car. Teresa covered the baby’s head when they carefully crossed between the cars and were accosted by blowing wind. Susan held the swaying train car doors open until Teresa had passed, laughing above the wild racket of the wheels clanging on the metal tracks.
“I’m surprised Samuel didn’t cry,” Susan said, once they were seated in the dining car.
“He’s a sweet baby,” Teresa cooed, gazing at Samuel’s face.
“May I help you?” the waiter asked.
“You go first,” Teresa whispered.
“Okay,” Susan said. “A ham sandwich for me and a glass of water.”
“The same thing for me,” Teresa said. “Anything will taste good right now,” she said to Susan.
A few minutes later the waiter returned with their order.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“No thank you,” Susan answered.
They ate slowly, enjoying the view and the food. Afterward, they returned to their seats. They entertained Samuel and talked about their hopes for the days ahead.
By early afternoon the train pulled into the Cincinnati station. Susan led the way through the large depot to the correct baggage belt and collected their luggage. She waved down a taxi on the sidewalk, and with little time to spare they arrived at the bus depot and boarded.
“Wow, this is a different ride,” Teresa said, settling into her seat.
“You kind of get spoiled on trains,” Susan said. “But we don’t have far to go.”
Moments later, the bus pulled out of the station, the whine of its engine filling the air. Baby Samuel wrinkled up his face and cried. Teresa rocked him, but he wouldn’t quiet down. Susan offered to take him, but she didn’t have any better success.
“He doesn’t like the bus,” Teresa said. “That’s got to be what’s bothering him. He can’t be hungry again. I just nursed him in the cab.”
Lifting the baby up to the window didn’t help either, so Teresa took him back.
“People are starting to stare at us,” Teresa said, desperation in her voice.
“I think the bus is stopping soon,” Susan said. “I see a town coming up.”
Teresa got up and walked to the back of the bus, and Samuel quieted down. She stayed in the back while a passenger boarded the bus. When they continued on, Teresa walked up and down the aisle with the baby. Susan was ready to offer to take a turn when Teresa slipped back into the seat. Samuel was sleeping. He slept through the next hour until the driver announced over the speaker, “A thirty-minute layover here, ladies and gentlemen. If you wish to get off, you can.”
Hungry, the two girls made their way to the small diner by the station where other passengers were also eating. While Teresa held Samuel, Susan ordered sandwiches and chose a seat near an outside window.
“I don’t trust bus drivers,” she muttered to Teresa. “I like to see the bus while I wait. It would be awful to get stranded this close to home.”
A lady Susan recognized from the bus walked up to their table. “You might try rubbing his ears for the baby’s crying,” she suggested. “That always worked for mine when we traveled on the bus.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Teresa said. “I’ll try anything!”
“How far are you going?” the lady asked.
“A little beyond Salem,” Susan said.
“Ah, Amish country,” the lady said. “I should have guessed. Are you both Amish?”
“I am,” Susan said. “I’m going back home. Teresa is my friend.”
“Visiting?” the lady asked in Teresa’s direction.
“I’m planning to join,” Teresa said, smiling.
“Oh my!” the lady exclaimed. “Joining…Yes, that will be an adventure indeed.”
“I suppose so,” Teresa agreed. “But a good one, I hope.”
“Well, the best to you,” the lady said, patting her arm and moving on.
Teresa watched the lady leave. “Susan, I really want an Amish dress and one of those white head coverings tomorrow. I want to be recognized as Amish.”
Susan laughed. “That shouldn’t be any problem once we’re home.”
“Boarding in five minutes!” the bus driver called from outside.
Susan jumped. “Those bus drivers always make me nervous!” Susan said again as she stood up. She reached out and Teresa put Samuel in her arms. “I always think they’ll leave without me.”
“I doubt if they would,” Teresa said, leading the way outside. “You worry too much.”
They neared the bus, and Susan paused to speak to the bus driver standing beside the steps.
“Sir,” Susan said, “can we be dropped off at Livonia on the other side of Salem? I know it’s not a regular stop, but we have folks waiting for us there.”
“No problem,” he said.
Susan and Teresa boarded the bus and returned to the seats they’d been in. She handed Samuel to Teresa after she settled in her chair. As the bus drove out, Teresa rubbed Samuel’s ears. To her amazement he settled down right away.
“It’s working!” Teresa whispered. “He’s not crying.”
“I wonder if it would have worked on the train?” Susan asked. “Our bus stop is coming up in about fifteen minutes, judging from what I see outside.”
Teresa rose half out of her seat to look out the window and then sat back.
“I’m so worried,” she said.
“They’ll like you!” Susan assured her.
The whine of the bus rose and fell around them. Outside the houses moved closer together, and when Susan saw the Livonia town sign go by, she nudged Teresa.
“We’re almost there!”
Teresa said nothing, unmoving except for the slight tremble in the hand draped over Samuel.
The bus pulled up to the curb and stopped.
“There they are, standing by the buggy waiting for us!” Susan exclaimed. “See, Teresa? That’s Mamm and Daett.”
“He has such a long beard,” Teresa replied. “Just like in the movies.”
Susan laughed. “This isn’t the movies, Teresa. It’s the real thing!”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Teresa got to her feet.
“We are only stopping to unload passengers,” the bus driver announced. “If this isn’t your destination, please stay in your seats.”
“Go!” Susan encouraged when Teresa faltered in the aisle.
“I don’t know them.”
“They’ll love you, believe me. It’s too late to back out now!”
Teresa moved forward when Susan touched her on the shoulder. She stopped on top of the bus steps, and Susan urged her on again.
Over by the buggy, Susan’s mamm walked toward them. Then she ran. Susan’s daett, moving slower, followed.
“Mamm!” Susan cried as she was smothered in her mamm’s arms.
“Susan, you’re back!” Anna gushed, stroking her daughter’s face.
“Mamm, I’m not a bobli anymore,” Susan said with a smile. “This is Teresa and Samuel.”
“Teresa.” Anna turned to give her a hug, gently squeezing Samuel between them. “I’m so glad you could come. Susan had such nice things to say about you. And this is little Samuel, yah?”
“Yes, my baby!”
Anna reached for Samuel.
Teresa wiped her eyes after she handed Samuel to Anna.
“What have we here?” Menno asked, his voice booming in the evening air. “If it is not my long-lost daughter and her friend!”
“Daett!” Susan shook his hand. He clasped her hand in both of his and then turned to do the same with Teresa.
“Come!” Anna said. “We have heating blocks in the buggy, what with the baby and all. We wanted to give you as warm a welcome as possible.”
“How thoughtful!” Susan said. “The drive isn’t that long for you to go to all the trouble.”
“It’s nothing,” Menno said, still booming. “And it makes the ride more comfortable.”
With Anna leading the way and holding Samuel, they walked to the buggy. Handing the baby to Teresa, Anna climbed in and then reached for Samuel again. After Teresa handed him to her, Susan gave her friend a hand at the buggy step, making sure she didn’t slip on the climb up. Menno brought their luggage over and loaded it into the back. He climbed in and slapped the lines.
“Get-up, horse,” he hollered. “We’ve got to get these girls home now.”
“Make sure your feet are on the bricks,” Susan whispered to Teresa, who was sitting snuggly beside her.
“I don’t think I’ll ever stop crying,” Teresa whispered back, her voice choking. “I’m so happy we’re here!”
Susan said nothing, squeezing Teresa’s hand under the warm buggy blanket. The lights of the small town could be seen through the buggy’s storm front. Christmas lights still twinkled in many of the windows. The familiar beat of horse’s hooves on the pavement filled Susan’s ears as Teresa snuggled up beside her.
“I’ve really come home. I know I have,” Teresa whispered.
Susan smiled, pressing back the tears.