CHAPTER EIGHT

 

Martha tossed and turned in the oversized bed.  Should she go check on Alice?  She’d seemed comfortable in the smaller but fluffier bed across the hallway.  Her aching legs spread apart and pressed down into the bed.  The smell of a fresh laundered sheet made her inhale a relaxing breath, but then the thump downstairs startled her, causing her legs to jerk, her back to spring straight up like a jack in the box toy.  Someone was in the haus!

Martha hurried the covers off her and ran to the bedroom door.  Carefully opening the door, she saw two men at the end of the long steps, moving things around the tables.  She reached for her quilted handbag, but stopped as soon as she grabbed it. She wasn’t supposed to have the cell phone.  She wiggled her mouth, and then nervousness broke in: she had to call the tenant house phone shanty. 

Martha saw the crooks go into the kitchen, so she forced her trembling legs to run across the hall and to grab Alice in her arms.  Alice was gone. She tried to scream, but no sound would come, and her legs were frozen. After much thought, her left leg moved, and then her right one followed.  Sounds of boots stomping up the steps blew through the partly open bedroom door.

Martha had to run for it: the window was her only escape.  Tiptoeing over to the window, she opened it as quietly as she could, and then she jumped out the window, swung onto an oak limb, and slid down the tree.  Great escape!  Her legs shot like a marathoner as she ran down the dirt road.  She had to get Ray to bring a four-by-four to club the crooks on the head so that she would find her dochder.

Wait a minute, what if Alice had gotten up to go to the bathroom? She stopped, dirt flying all around.  She had to go back, but what good would she be against two robbers.  She took a deep breath and ran for the tenant house as fast as she could run.  Finally, she saw an oil lamp on a wagon in front of the house.  She slid toward the wagon and stopped.  Alice was safe.  She sat on the wagon, nibbling on an oak branch; they had made Smores.  Flickers of orange-red fire swayed in the night wind from the bonfire. Why hadn’t Alice told her that she was going to visit Ray?

Ray’s head was tilted, watching her now oxygen-deprived breathing.  “What’s wrong, Martha?”  He could tell that she had run pretty fast to get to them.  He knew about the two cleaning men, and he knew that he’d forgotten to tell her that they moonlighted, so cleaned at night.  Should he tell her, or should he stand there and watch her pant without begging for a glass of cold water? 

Ray chose to avoid torturing her, for he might not get a kiss. “The cleaning guys came to see you?’  He smiled, got up from the wagon, and walked over to the open fire.  His baby blues, along with Alice’s matching blues twinkled, lighting up the night air.  He grabbed an oak branch, stuck some marshmallows on it and said, “They clean at night, twice a week, but I guess they just made their last house call.  Would you like some Smores?”

Martha upped her chin and drew a stern look, and he laughed at her as he held the sweet confection over the fire pit.  Alice was sitting on the wagon, nibbling away, unknown that he was talking to her mamm.  The wagon had fresh hay on it, enough for an autumn hayride.  The stars were out, putting on a performance over the black horizon, and the warmth of an open bonfire crackled and swayed with Westward wind.

“Well, is it a Yes or No?”  He laughed again and winked at her.  He wouldn’t offer a third time.  He studied the outline of her soft, beautiful face and decided that he would offer a hundred times if he had to, but surely she, like most women, liked chocolate.

“A small one,” Martha walked over and slid up onto the wagon, putting her arms around her dochder’s neck, she said, “You worried me, baby girl.  You didn’t tell me that you were out here.”

“You didn’t ask!” Alice explained as she gave her mamm chocolate kisses, and Martha kissed her back, lightly tapping her freckled cheek. 

Impulsively, when Ray crossed over to the wagon, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned against his chest.  ‘Thank you for keeping my dochder safe.  You are so wunderbar!

“Go ahead and give him a gooey kiss, Momma; I need a daddy that fixes Smores.”  Alice didn’t elaborate that having a dad that let her stay up after curfew was exceptional because she didn’t want her mother to remember the curfew.

It didn’t work.  “It’s way past her bedtime,” Martha explained.  “She will be groggy.”

“We are on farm time, here, young lady.”  Ray grabbed the lightly burnt marshmallows off the stick and placed it between two graham crackers and sliding a good chunk of milk chocolate between it, he created a Smores.  The aroma of fresh, melting chocolate filled the air and made Martha’s stomach growl. The sourdough sandwich with peanut butter spread and fresh apples was long gone.  “I’m hungry; it’s been a long time since dinner time.”

“May I have dinner at your place tomorrow?” Ray asked as he watched her gobble the warm Smores down. “Your mamm wanted to take Alice tomorrow. It will allow you to get used to the farm.” He glanced at her for an answer as he grabbed her empty oak branch and stuffed three giant marshmallows on it.  The night fire warmed his face, outlined the hard creases on his forehead and around his strong lips.  A light breeze blew his red hair before his head, making it seem like the orange-fire flame that emerged from the open pit. 

“Jah.”  Martha’s face grew a soft smile before she added, “I want you to eat every dinner with us. Alice could use a daed.  Immediately, she wished that she could take the sudden outburst of words back, but she couldn’t, and she knew that he probably thought that all she wanted was a father for Alice.  Sure, she did want a father for her daughter, but she was yearning for something deeper, someone to hold…someone to say her weddings vows with, hopefully before an Amish bishop. 

“A daddy sounds good!” Alice remarked, the flame shining against her freckled face.  She’d never been so happy, especially with the nearby field of Oreo-colored cows and the chicken house.  Would they let her get some pigs, too? She had to wonder as she took the last bite of her Smores and thought that it was delightful.

Martha settled onto the wagon, tucking the corners of her flannel nightgown under her crossed legs.  Had she heard him right, about Alice?  “Did you say that my mamm wanted to take Alice tomorrow?”  It didn’t make sense as she needed to be enrolled in public school. 

He finally explained the schooling plans, “She wants her in our school.” The request had shocked him, too, and he felt like Martha’s mamm wanted to pull Alice away from her mamm so that she could raise her Old Order Amish. 

Ray couldn’t go against such a plan, for an Amish education, in his opinion, was the best education that his dochder could have, and he was backing her up. “It is nice that the bishop is letting her do this, Martha,” he spoke softly, reading her eyes, and her mouth turned downward, her head going back and forth in disagreement.

Martha said now, “Of course he is going to agree, Ray; I have the basket of secrets.”  She leaned forward, shaking a finger mid-air.  She was going to make it clear that she was Alice’s only parent, and she would decide about school.  “She is Englisch now, not Amish!”

“Get off my farm then.”  Ray took the roasted marshmallow off the stick and made another Smores. He was being kind to let her be a tenant on the farm that was rightfully his, so she needed to respect his community.  He had helped conceive Alice.  Didn’t a daed have half of the say?  Martha was being selfish. 

Martha drew fear as the wind picked up and dangled her blonde bangs.  The smell of melted chocolate didn’t even tempt her palate; her stomach tilted.  Feelings of hurt and dependence entered her mind, making her think that she could have done better raising her dochder. Guilt circled through her whole body, churning with the night wind.  If she’d done it right and had waited to accept Jeremiah’s date offer, instead of luring him to the loft in the barn, she’d be under the night stars and happy in love. 

First, she needed a dependable car, one that didn’t leak oil, to get Alice to and from public school.  Next, would be her own home, even an apartment would do until she could get her own place.  In the end, she needed to save for Alice’s college.  When it was all said and done, and Alice left home to start her own life, she would say that Martha had been the best mamm ever, even in hard times.

Water freely flowed down her face, for she accepted defeat: she had nowhere else to go, and it winter was just around the corner.  She was forced to obey this man’s rules.

Ray said now, “Alice can you run inside and grab that box of tissues that is next to the table that you were coloring at earlier?”  He wanted to blot her tears away.  He hadn’t been overbearing, but he couldn’t help to feel sorry for her.  Such a beautiful girl with such a terrible plight in life and he’d been partly responsible for getting her to that point.  “You’re mamm is crying an ocean!”

Her little sparkling red French braid glowed, her cheeks of soft peach, with carved out dimples, made her adorable.  “She cries all the time when we run out of milk.  I’m used to it, Daddy.  You going to bring us more milk that the other Daddy Ray brought us? You’re not going to let us run out?” A braid went flying through the air as she jumped off the wagon, her little chubby legs skipping to the front porch of the tenant haus. 

“Martha, I will be blunt.  It was wrong to bring up rejection to the school idea in front of Alice.” He was talking about guiding the child to want a Christian education.  He got closer and put his arm around her.  Should he tell her secret #10 was sweet because he’d passionately held her, kissed her lips, in the bar loft, helping her conceive such a precious little girl?  Grandma Dailey was all about order.  He must not tell until she’d delivered all ten cards; she had eight left to deliver.

Martha said now, and in a snappy tone, “I am a single mother.”  Her eyes watered more, the pit fire glowing against a face that shown resentment from parenting alone.  He needed to give her a break.

Ray did.  “I’ll take Alice under my wing and help her learn how to feed the animals and pick apples; she’s only known the city.” He leaned down and gently kissed her forehead, his eyes looking down at the lips that he’d kissed but forgotten so many years ago.  The heat of his breath flushed her face, and he wished that he could remember how her eyes had looked the night in the loft: had her eyes closed, or had they remained half-open, absorbing the energy from his eyes. 

“Another man kissing me,” Martha sighed, and he grinned and jumped back.  It had been impulsive, for, back at the projects; it was common for men to pick her up just because she was vulnerable as a single mother.  Was Ray the same?  Like Ray L. and the previous boyfriends, would he use her and hope back into his comfortable SUV?  She giggled, her puffy red cheeks burning.  He had no SUV, just a horse and buggy, so that made her feel better.

So that was Good Point #1: he drove a horse and buggy and not a SUV.  Good point #2: The Amish hop in the sack after they are married.  No, they don’t, girl! Okay, she had ruined that good trait by jumping in the sack of hay during Rumspringa. I could just kill Jeremiah! As usual, she blamed Jeremiah for not being easy to catch.

*****

 

His baby blues gleaming from the flickering flames of the orange-red bonfire, Ray softly said, “You’re so beautiful, loving, and a very good mother to Alice.” He gave a shy pause before mustering up more confidence to move in on her, to try to capture her heart.  “I need a friend like you.  A woman like you doesn’t come around very often. She has to be sent from Gott.”  He jumped back over, leaning his warm face against hers, and lightly tapped her lips. He needed to express his love for her and make her feel special and cared for this time.  Finally, He needed to make amends for leaving her as a single mamm for so many years.  He needed for her to need him.  He needed for Alice to need him. For so many years, he’d had just the opposite life.

Being lonely. No love. No companion to share life’s sweet moments with or to lean on during life’s challenges.

He wanted to be loved.

By his baby girl’s mother.

If a mother really loved a man, the child could feel it. Alice needed to know that the couple that had brought her into this world really could forge an enduring love by being best-friends.

After Jesus.

As in all Amish marriages, being a servant of Christ was one’s number one calling. A couple that prayed together, rejoiced together, and loved the Lord together would stay together. Martha had come back home, vowed to join the church, and confessed her sins before God and the church leaders; she was equaled yoked with him now. They could be together.

Forever. Under God’s bond and His protection, they would thrive.   

Martha sighed, the lines above her glistening brown eyes warmly smoothing out from the heat against her face, and gazed into his strong eyes. Ray kept his hot breath on her, refusing to let her be until he got that second kiss.  One kiss every eight years and nine months, he deserved that, in his opinion, for he’d just accepted the past, shook hands with it, and anticipated a bright future with her and his dochder. 

The bonfire sprouted some beautiful sparks of orange, clay red, and bouncing yellow as Martha looked up and gazed into Ray’s twinkling blue eyes. She softly said, “You take my breath away, Ray. You are so intriguing, so different than the men in Kentucky.” Martha fanned her face like a high school girl finally being granted a kiss by a star quarterback.  

“That is my intentions, my beautiful lady,” Ray spoke softly before pulling her closer and feeling her heartbeat against his chest. A light Westward wind came rolling down from the apple orchard trees, making its way between them to fan the heat off their faces.

Within seconds, the hot intensity rushed back, tinting their faces. Ray’s adrenaline rushed through his body, and he wiggled his toes against his black boots and drew a romantic spark in his dazzling blue eyes. This was the woman that had mothered his daughter and been forced out of her faith because of his sin. To be exciting her with a show of love thrilled him, for she deserved to be loved and to have him as a soul-mate.  In fact, she’d deserved his attention and love while she was pregnant, although that had not happened.

I will make it up to her. I will be the strongest earthly man in her life. Ray leaned over and pressed his warm lips against hers, and before he knew it, she had gotten creative with the kiss.  Had they kissed that passionately in the loft?  No wonder they’d conceived such a bright, beautiful little girl. “I didn’t want to take my lips off of you, sweetheart, but I need to tell you about note #10.”

Martha puckered again, and he lightly kissed her and then said, “The note said that…”  He stopped as she put her finger over his lips. He felt the tap on his back.  Alice had seen them kiss. How had he not heard her come off the front porch?

“Mrs. Dailey said that note #10 would be the sweetest note, so let’s save the best for last.” Alice tugged on Martha’s cotton robe.  Martha’s back jerked up against the wagon, her eyes meeting a stern eight-year-old’s baby blues. “Alice, I didn’t know that you came back so quickly.” Martha blushed.

“That’s fine, mommy.  You and daddy can kiss, but I’d like to keep him forever instead of getting a new daddy next month.”  Alice said bluntly, strands of her blond hair dangling in the chilly night air. The distant sound of a coyote rang through the apple orchard, across the front porch, and around the bonfire. The crinkling of the swaying tree’s boughs and the smell of earth sprinkled around them.

Ray looked up at the sky. It felt like rain. The apple orchard needed it as badly as he needed a fraa like Martha and his dochder. “I’m not going anywhere, Alice.  I am your daddy forever,” Ray said, and he meant it.

******

 

Naomi Yoder couldn’t sleep, so she sat in the wooden rocker, facing the night sky’s cosmic adventure through the open bedroom window.  There was no lit oil lamp, open Bible, or open letters from her familye.

Solitude. The one word rang in her ears like the flowing butterfly wind chime that hung outside her back kitchen window, the best place to get a scenic view of the rolling green landscape at the back of their sprawling farm.

Solitude. She didn’t even want to sit at her writing desk and pen her married kinner.  Her thoughts were absorbed with her missing dochder, the female version of the prodigal son.  It should be wunderbar that Martha had come back home, even with the basket of secrets. 

It was not.

And Naomi wanted to do one thing.

To lock herself in her walk-in closet, lights off, and ask God why this had to happen to her familye. Why not another familye? It wasn’t that she was prideful and concerned about her reputation and the great shame that she could attract from Martha’s wrongdoings. She was the most humble woman in the church; at least she had always thought so. Had she been right?

Uffgevva.  She had given up her ego, her selfish desires that nestled within her body to allow God to do His will. How could a basket of secrets be His will? Christians needed to be good role models, to excel in living a sound, joyful life. There was nothing joyful about those hidden notes.

Nothing. Except for revenge, staked out by a late Amish woman who had a grudge that no one else could see.

Would she withstand the looks and stares and strict guidelines handed down by the bishop?  Surely the bishop would be furious and maybe even send her away.

In the ban.

Six months of not verbal contact with her family or church sisters or brothers. No buying or selling within the community and no quilting bees.

But the later was a good thing because just the thought of a quilting bee tilted her stomach.  How could such a ‘judging panel’ have existed for over two decades in her home?  Why hadn’t she put her foot down and explained that discipline should be handed down by the bishop?

Ray had said that he’d care for Alice because he had felt sorry for her not having a daed figure.  She knew that Ray had been a devoted hand at her larger dairy operation, which sold to a large ice-cream chain.  If he got caught up in helping with Alice, and Martha refused to conform to the rules, would he and Martha be shunned? 

What about Heather Miller? Ray had been dating her for quite some time, and everyone expected them to announce they’d be getting hitched soon. But that was hearsay; she hadn’t seen them alone in a buggy. Maybe the gossip was not true?

Thinking about Alice is where her mind needed to go; to her school, her dresses that needed to be made, and the proper environment that needed to make the haus a place for small kinner again.  Would Martha give her Alice?  She could only hope. If truth be told, she deserved Alice more than Martha, for she could raise her up in a good, Christian home.  Martha could not do that at the rate that she was going.  Being denied access to see Alice had made Naomi bitter and indifferent toward Martha.

Indifference had started the day that Martha had disobeyed, unpinned her prayer kapp, donned a glittered sweatshirt and blue jeans, right in front of her, in her own haus, and left for Rumspringa. Sure Rumspringa was allowed, but she was one of the few church members that had voted against it at the shtill hokka that they held every six months. 

And the look that Martha had given her, one of sheer pleasure of disobeying and merging with the world. Naomi thought that she should have slapped her across her deviant face; good, strong discipline would have prevented all of this mess, and it wouldn’t have disturbed the quilting bee, either. Mrs. Miller wouldn’t have left and changed her last name to Dailey.

But Alice wouldn’t have been created, and that was enough to stop her anger.  She had seen her out of the corner of her eyes at Yoder’s Kitchen.  Her red hair was braided, her dimples so deep, and her rose-laced cheeks, all freckled up and needing to be pinched a time or two by her grandma.  Had Gott allowed this for a reason?