Chapter Two

Friday came with no shift in the current weather. Grace stepped outside, escaping a buzzing horsefly that had pestered her the whole morning. With what little money she had saved helping at her neighbor’s produce stand and selling sweet rolls to the local bakery back home, she could at least not be so frugal and just purchase a good flyswatter.

She glanced over the valley below. Three horses grazed in her neighbor’s pasture. A stream of gray smoke rose from a small structure, despite the warm weather, and followed the morning breeze toward a winding creek. The narrow gravel lane widened as her eyes followed it northwest. Houses dotted both sides of a road that ran as crooked as a snake. Then hills and dips played equal tricks to block out anything farther. Not within walking distance. A flyswatter would have to wait. Her feet had not swelled once, as mutter’s had when she was carrying Mercy, but if Grace had too far to walk, that would change rather quickly. Maybe Aenti Tess would be willing to take her, just for a few staples. Surely she didn’t expect Grace to live on a half sleeve of crackers and a sliver of cheese for the next two months.

Maybe she should wander over the hill, meet her nearest neighbors. Grace squashed that idea immediately. The longer she stayed invisible, the better. The house below was three times the size of the sinner’s shack and surrounded by acres of pasture and strong fencing. Surely a family lived there.

The sound of buggy wheels tangling with ruts and rocks, mingling with the heavy panting of horses alerted her, and she turned her attention to the barely visible drive leading to the sinner’s shack. A buggy rattled and strained against the climb up the hill, and she raised an arm to shield the morning sun from her eyes and watched it approach.

“Aenti Tess,” she breathed out with relief, desperate for company, until a second buggy came into view. Her joy was quickly stomped when she counted five white kapps in total cresting the hill. Brushing her hands down the length of her worn-out chore dress, she sucked in her concern at meeting the local women so soon and faked a warm, welcoming smile. When the buggies came to a stop in front of the shack, Aenti Tess slithered out of the buggy, giving her a disapproving frown. Did she object to bare feet, too?

A younger woman, close in age to Grace, climbed down from the driver’s seat and tied off her aenti’s horse, a faded old mare that looked about as worn as a critter could get. Grace swallowed back her unease at this sudden bombardment, wishing she could hide her bulging middle, as she had for six months under her father’s roof, but there was no hiding her shame now when it stuck out like a fly in butter.

One by one, a swarm of white kapps and gray-blue dresses of various sizes descended their high perches. They each gathered a basket or cardboard box into their arms, and as they walked toward the lopsided porch, Grace realized she would be hosting these women, here in her home of rotting sticks and leaning timbers, with only a handful of crackers and a smidgen of cheese to offer. Now she wished she hadn’t eaten so much.

Her jaw was still open, and she closed it quickly as an array of smiling faces peered up at her. Aenti Tess could have mentioned a local welcoming party was coming. Grace mentally grumbled.

“Grace, this here is Elli Schwartz, Betty Glick, Hannah Glick, and Rachel Yoder. We have all kumm to help you get this haus in order.” Tessie said with a hint of sarcasm.

Yep, much like Daed, her aenti was direct and wasted no time charging up the steps and into the sinner’s shack. The women each tossed Grace a welcoming nod as they followed behind her aenti but thankfully didn’t pounce on her with meddling questions or long-winded introductions.

Grace let out a held breath before turning on a bare heel and walking inside. A cleaning frolic was about to begin.

“It is so small,” the girl named Hannah said, setting a box of canned goods on the unreliable table. Her quiet tone carried a pound of sorrow.

“Ach, nee!” Grace rushed forward, swooping up the box. “I fear that table is not worthy to hold a plate, let alone a box.” Grace shifted the box to the counter.

“I can see you need many more things than just some dusting and paint.” That was Betty, short, round, and smiling despite the look of surprise held in her soft brown eyes. “Well, don’t you fret, my dear. We are a resourceful bunch.” Betty winked.

Grace stifled a grin. She had no doubts, what with the way Betty planted two fists onto healthy hips and gave the shack a careful perusal.

“I am very pleased to meet you all, but you did not need to kumm. I can handle a place this small myself.” Did they think because her morals were weak, the rest of her was, too?

Hopefully she didn’t sound ungrateful. She was grateful. In fact, just having company had already perked up her downtrodden mood.

“Of course you can, but what good are we if we do not lend a hand to our newest Walnut Ridge neighbor? I’m Elli.” The woman flashed an honest smile, and then went to removing items from her basket. “I brought more staples. Fresh corn my Abram picked just this morning and some ham and pickles. Tessie said you needed pots and whatnot, so we brought those, too.”

Grace didn’t know what whatnots were but her tongue dampened with eagerness, and her stomach was protesting her patience. She couldn’t remember the last time she had ever been so hungry. Eating for two had her wanting, craving, and at all hours. Ice cream—did they have that? She quickly chided herself for the selfish thought.

If one of those boxes presented ice cream, any flavor, she would surely cry. Her emotions were a little unpredictable of late. “That is so kind of you, of each of you. Danke.”

“It smells horrible in here. I’m not sure I can stand it long,” Rachel Yoder hissed, her pale face puckered as if she had just swallowed a whole lemon. The willowy maedel made no pretense that she was there willingly.

“Just open the windows and door,” Elli said pumping a thin stream of water into a small bucket. “Step outside if need be. We have the whole day, and it is a little house.” Elli grinned, deepening the lines on her tanned face with age.

“Go fetch the cleaning supplies and get some air,” Tess barked, pulling rags and trash bags from a yellow sack. Rachel turned up her nose and stomped out the door.

“It’s been years since I’ve been up here,” Elli said pulling plates from the leaning cabinet. Grace hadn’t even explored the contents of the cabinet yet. The room quickly began to fill with chatter, but Grace secluded herself to the tiny bedroom, washing walls with Rachel. At seven months pregnant, her condition couldn’t very well be hidden no matter where one landed, Amish didn’t tend to spark up conversations with women like her.

Surely they didn’t know she had once been shunned by her own bishop. If they asked, she would have to tell the truth, along with the fact that she had confessed and repented as required. It had been a hard obedience to muster, but Grace followed through, in hopes for total forgiveness. However, forgiveness had a long memory, and her father’s, even longer.

…

After only a couple of hours, the sinner’s shack smelled of lemons and possibility. Grace also felt more relaxed and grateful for even a small ounce of conversation that didn’t involve her circumstances. These women where nothing like the women she grew up knowing.

Grace saw movement out of the corner of her eye. “Spiders! Gah! I hate spiders,” she screamed, dropping the small gallon bucket of dirty water over the floor and clutching her chest. She’d caught a flash of brown scurrying down her chore dress and ran out the door in a panic, shaking the fabric wildly in her exit.

Once clear of the house, Grace stomped the dry earth around her, dust clouding up into a heavy plume. She expected some laughter after such a silly reaction to mere bugs, but not the kind the women were enjoying at her expense now.

It was a familiar scene. Each of her sisters always found amusement in her fear of spiders. Brushing away imaginary creepers from her dress, she righted herself, caught her breath, and straightened her kapp. She didn’t like being the center of others’ amusement. Nothing humbling about it, the way she saw it. And when was she ever going to get over this fear of spiders? If Mercy were here, she would have handled it for her. But her youngest sister was not here—she had to rely on herself now. Grace stomped some more to be certain the eight-legged monster didn’t pester her again.

“You move fairly swiftly, considering,” Rachel smarted off from the top step. In that shade of dark blue, she looked pale, except for the deep red of her warm cheeks. Rachel was making no secret of the fact that she had no intention of being a friend to Grace. That was fine by Grace. It was part of the punishment she deserved. She was not blind to the fact that she would be met with judgments similar to those she’d received back home once the rumor mill started.

“Here, let me give you a look-over,” Elli quickly interrupted and joined her in the yard. With one hand, she brushed Grace’s shoulder and trailed the length of her for any further crawling pest. “Tessie tells me you are a good hand in the kitchen. Have you ever made cheese?” Elli’s brows rose and stayed there, looking quizzical.

This was the woman Grace would be working for, and also the one who had gifted Grace the box filled with linens, a lamp, and food when she first arrived. Something told Grace she had a hand in this cleaning frolic as well, sensing her aenti was not so freely willing to volunteer.

Elli was only inches taller, but twenty years or better separated them in age. She was also different, Grace noted, as she had listened to the women chat for the past hours as they made a shack into a home. Elli dressed with the same plainness as each of them, but something about her stood out, catching the eye. She held a strange confidence that made her, well, interesting. Even more so the longer she spoke.

Grace finally grasped the disparity: Elli had no accent. Her English was spoken far too well to ignore, and Grace quickly made a mental note to herself to know more about the woman. Confidence was one of the many things Grace was lacking, but would need for the road ahead of her.

“Nee, I have never made cheese before, but I will do my best to not disappoint you.” Grace nodded humbly. She did love learning new things, and if working at the creamery helped her save enough to support herself, she would master any skill Elli was willing to teach her.

“I am sure you will do fine, my dear.” Elli smiled, and the blue of her eyes almost twinkled. A mix between cloudless sky and a picture Grace once saw of the ocean.

“What do you enjoy doing with your time?” It was an odd question, but Elli was a bit odd for an Amish fraa now, wasn’t she? One could not overlook the small hole in her left ear, an indication she wore, or once wore, earrings, like Englischers did.

“I don’t rightly know how to answer that,” she replied. “My sisters and I were taught to seek out our separate talents, not dawdle, so each day ran as smooth as butter.” And it did, just as her daed said good planning and order would. Only Grace had dared to disturb the order of things, and for that daed washed his hands of her. Elli led her back to the porch steps. “My sister Charity loves sewing, which I know enough, but nothing like her. Faith makes the finest quilts in all Havenlee. Englischers pay well for them, too.”

She flicked a stinkbug from the railing as Betty stepped out onto the porch with six cups of something steaming nestled in a skillet made to serve as a tray. It smelled heavenly, a blend of minty freshness and coziness. Betty was resourceful.

“So you have two sisters,” Hannah asked, taking a cup from Betty’s tray and breathing in the aroma.

“I have four,” Grace replied too quickly. Just mentioning them made her stomach ache. “My younger sister Hope grows the most beautiful gardens, and Mercy, well, she is fifteen. Her talent for now is finding hers before daed gives her one.” She snickered, and the women snickered, too. This was nice, almost normal, despite missing her sisters terribly. Grace was glad they had come, and she sipped at her cup and let the minty taste revive her parched tongue.

“I have all bruders. Five of them.” Hannah rolled her eyes above a thin-lipped smirk. “I would trade any one of them for a sister. I even have a sohn. Seems it is Gott’s will I be surrounded by men.” It was nice to hear laughter once again from the group. With the exception of her aenti, who was bending a chipped sliver of paint from the side of a porch post.

“And what was your talent?” Rachel asked with a hint of sarcasm peppering her tone.

“Mine was next to mutter in the kitchen,” she said with confidence, well-known back home for her baking talents. Pride, another sin she needed to work on. She was becoming a regular chatterbox as well. Grace fidgeted with her cream-colored teacup to stop her rambling.

“Charity, Faith, Hope, Mercy, and Grace. Your mamm and daed chose wisely. Do ya have bruders ?” Betty asked. Betty had introduced herself when the women arrived this morning as the aenti of Caleb and Elis, the men who had delivered her here. Her hair was as black as nightfall under her kapp and she went on all morning about the upcoming weddings of both her nephews. It had been so long since Grace had attended a wedding, but in her condition, she was certain it would be longer still. She had no plans of venturing out into the community more than was expected. It was one thing to slip from the faith; it was another to walk about for everyone to see that you had done so.

“Nee, no bruders.” The baby moved—well, more like stretched—and Grace turned away from prying eyes to cradle her growing girth until the uncomfortable feeling had passed. Hopefully no one noticed.

She could never tell a soul how she really felt—the joy that welled up inside her each time she was reminded she would soon bring life into the world. No, she was meant to act shamed, which she was for allowing her condition to be present in the first place, but not for the innocent life that would result from it.

“When are you expecting?” Elli asked boldly, stepping up alongside her. Elli picked at a spider web between two wooden rails that had long lost whatever held them tight. Grace swallowed hard. Looking heavenward, she eyed the dull blue of the sky, seeking a darkened cloud to relieve her overly warm flesh. This would not be the first person in Walnut Ridge to ask the question, and she knew she would have to simply get used to such forwardness.

“Last week of December,” she muttered, wishing for a hole to tuck into. In her community, such things were rarely spoken about, and never in her case. Each of these women had to see her for what she was—a fallen woman, wayward in the faith. She was fortunate Mutter had taken her to the clinic for a checkup before packing her blue duffle bag and whispering a goodbye.

“A Christmas boppli. Wouldn’t that be just wunderbaar?” Hannah said it with such wistfulness. Grace hadn’t considered that. Worse, she hadn’t thought past the next day and now was reminded that she was spending Christmas alone, without her family.

“That makes you over seven months. You are so tiny. I was that size with Noah at only two,” Hannah said, adding to the conversation Grace wished had never started. Hannah had a quiet nature about her that made her the epitome of a plain woman. Much like her sister Faith, in truth, and Grace believed the two were about the same age as well. Her delicate way and tender smile made Grace miss Faith even more than she had already. Despite her father’s orders, each of her sisters had spoken to her until the day she left. In whispers in the night or in the barn during morning milking, but they took every opportunity given to them to do so. Maybe she should write to them. It wasn’t ideal, but it was something.

“I was never that size,” Betty jested. “You are too small. We need to fatten you up.”

Grace cocked her head to the side, studying the lot of them. It was apparent that things in this community were nothing like the Old Order community she was raised in. In Havenlee, women worked all day without need of frivolous conversations. And speaking of pregnancy in public, much less an unwed one, would not be permitted in whispers, or any tone.

The women were offering her friendship. Grace had not expected that. Not at all.

She didn’t deserve it, either. Before a few days ago, she had endured five whole weeks of the opposite within her family home. Her bad decision had forced a lot of changes in her life. Like eating meals alone in a dark sitting room while her family gathered around the table, having her father look through her every time he entered a room, and worse, not sitting with her sisters at church and enduring the judgmental glares aimed her way in the far corners where sinners sat.

She could beg forgiveness until the sky fell, but it mattered none in her father’s eyes. If Grace had not agreed to her daed’s plan to leave home until her child was born, she was certain he would have paraded her around daily to set an example to all the young girls on the cusp of womanhood. Yet, she didn’t get the feeling these women did a lot of parading.

“Danke for the box you left for me.” She looked to Elli. “The linens and lamp were much appreciated my first night.” Changing the topic was her only defense from these women pulling more out of her. “I cannot tell each of you how grateful I am that you came to help me today.”

“Kindness given keeps coming back,” Elli added.

“Someone must be coming,” Betty said as the sound of another buggy rattled up the hill. Was all of Walnut Ridge coming to see her this day?

“We never told anyone else we were coming,” Rachel added, as if their coming was meant to be kept secret. Grace bristled at the comment. Would all the members of Walnut Ridge welcome her this way, or like Rachel, would they treat her accordingly?

A man’s voice, urging his horse through the climb, sounded among the trees. She recalled the small home the night she had arrived, its lamplight in the wee hours of early mornings, and the sound of banging that echoed along the deep valley long into the night hours. She had a feeling she was about to meet another member of the Walnut Ridge welcoming committee—this time, her neighbor.