Leah stepped back and stared at him with a horrified expression. “You want to abandon your faith?”
“I didn’t say that,” Thomas protested. “I’ve just been thinking and I wondered if it was fair to you to—”
“You knew that I wanted to become Amish again,” Leah interrupted, the anger in her tone startling him. “It’s why I came to Sara for a husband.” She threw up her arms. “I don’t believe this. Why do you think I’m going to baptismal classes?”
Thomas stood there for a moment, stunned. Had he known she was going to react this strongly, he’d have never brought it up. It was just that everyone was encouraging him to talk with Leah about things. “I’m not saying it’s what we have to do,” he defended. “I just... I thought we should talk about it. Sara said it’s important for couples to—it was just something I thought about and wanted to—” And again, before he could finish what he was trying to say, she lashed back at him.
“Ne. I don’t want to hear any more.” She held up her hand. “It’s not what I want. It’s not what I agreed to. I won’t agree to it. I won’t marry you.” She folded her arms and stared at him with brimming eyes.
Remorse swept over him, making his gut clench. “Don’t say that, Leah. I love you. I want you to be my wife. I’ll do whatever you—”
“Ne. No more.” She whirled around and walked away from him, then stopped and glanced back. “You would give up our whole way of life for the sake of a car?” Her lips puckered as if she’d tasted something bitter. “Being able to drive means more to you than sitting in worship with our families? Than raising children in our fathers’ faith?”
He could feel his own temper rising. She was being unfair. That wasn’t what he’d said. It certainly wasn’t what he’d meant. He was thinking of her more than anything. And he hadn’t said he wanted to become Mennonite—he’d only said the idea had crossed his mind. Why was she acting like this? He had just wanted to talk this thing out with her. “There’s no need to overreact. I was just asking.”
“Don’t tell me how I should feel, Thomas!” She shook her head adamantly.
“I think we both need to cool down and discuss this calmly,” he said, walking toward her.
“What is there to talk about? I know what I want. And clearly, you don’t. So this is not going to work. I won’t marry you, Thomas. I thought we...” She shook her head again. “It doesn’t matter. We obviously don’t want the same things in life.”
“You’re behaving irrationally, Leah. You don’t walk away from what we’ve found together because we’ve had a disagreement.” He gestured with one hand. “This isn’t even a disagreement. I just wanted to talk it over with you.”
She continued to shake her head. “I’m sorry, but it’s over between us. Find someone else, a girl who wants motor cars and electricity. I’m not that woman.”
* * *
Leah raised her foot from the pedal of her mother’s old Singer sewing machine and glanced up from the seam she was finishing. “This is good material,” she said to her mother. “It’s been so long since I’ve worked with anything this nice. At the mission, I had to put in a request for cloth and hope that I got something close to what I needed.” She’d left her own sewing machine behind when she’d returned to the United States. The family that replaced her would have a greater need than she would.
“I’m glad you like the ticking,” her mother said. “It’s so nice to have all of you girls here and working together on the pillows. Just like old times.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Leah agreed. When Rebecca had stopped by Sara’s that morning to ask her to come, Leah had been thankful for the invitation. She’d always liked making pillows. Hannah was one of the few women who still made them the old-fashioned way. All year, she and Johanna saved down from their geese for stuffing. It took a lot of work, but the resulting pillows would last for years. Best of all, it was a great excuse to get together with her sisters and mother, to laugh and share the latest family news.
It was just what she needed after the awful breakup with Thomas earlier in the week...the breakup she still hadn’t told anyone about.
She just hadn’t been ready to answer the questions she would be asked. She had no right to repeat Thomas’s doubts about remaining in the faith. That was private and personal, not something to be discussed by the community until he made a final decision. But she was glad he’d come to her when he did because there was no need to drag out their courtship if it wasn’t going anywhere.
Maybe her dreams of remarrying were just that. Dreams. Maybe she wasn’t meant to find happiness in another marriage, or to be a mother again. She had other options. She knew that she could find a home with Mam or any of her sisters. Someone would have to care for Susanna and David when her mother and Albert grew older. Could it be that God meant for her to spend her life caring for her little sister and helping her family? She could still return to the church, still be with those she loved.
She sighed and returned to the seam she’d been reinforcing on the pillow casing. The dull ache that had haunted her since her confrontation with Thomas threatened to ruin the day. Just as it had ruined the previous day.
And the one before.
She steeled herself to not allow her regrets to drag her down. She could withstand this disappointment. Prayer and faith would carry her until the pain of losing Thomas faded.
A flash of blue and flying pigtails caught her attention, yanking her from her thoughts. Anna’s small daughter Rose darted across the sewing room and thrust chubby hands into the basket containing the goose down.
Giggling, she seized handfuls of down feathers and tossed them into the air. “Snow!” she shrieked in Deitsch. “Snow!”
“Leibchen, how did you get in here?” Anna laughed as she laid down the embroidered pillowcase she was hemming and scooped up her little daughter. “Ruth, can you come get this escapee?”
Leah’s throat constricted at the sight of her sister and child. So beautiful, she thought. Did Anna have any notion of how fortunate she was? Goose down settled on the child’s butter-yellow hair and clung to her blue dress, a perfect copy of the one Anna wore, complete with white apron. Anna had braided Rose’s hair into two tiny plaits secured by ties of white ribbon, plaits that stuck out on either side of her perfectly shaped head.
Hannah laughed. “She loves to be in the center of the action, don’t you, pumpkin? Give her to me, Anna. Grossmama will tend to her.”
Anna passed her daughter over and Hannah took a clump of down out of the child’s hair and tickled her nose with it. Rose giggled and patted Hannah’s cheeks.
“Thirsty,” Rose said. “Want milk.”
“Do you?” Hannah asked. “How about if you come down to the kitchen with me and we’ll fix a snack for you and your cousins?”
Rose’s head bobbed in agreement. “Ya.”
“Goot,” Anna said. “You go and help Grossmama. And stay downstairs. I don’t know how you got away from your aunt Ruth.”
Susanna and Ruth had taken the children into the front room, where they were playing with an assortment of wooden blocks and farm animals that Albert had carved for them. Usually Rose was quite happy bossing Ruth’s twin boys around and feeding cookies to Miriam’s little son or rocking one of the babies, but she had an independent streak and was as mischievous as Rebecca had been as a child. No stranger, looking at those innocent blue eyes, red cheeks and sweet lips, would suspect Rose of being the ringleader of her nephews’ troublemaking.
“You think I’m joking,” Anna said to Leah when their mother had led Rose out of the sewing room. “She’s a handful. Mashed potatoes in her father’s work boots, kittens in the bread box and coloring all over her father’s latest copy of The Budget. And that’s just since the Sabbath.”
“But she has a good heart,” Rebecca defended. “No one could be more gentle with the babies. And she can’t stand to see the boys squabbling. She never cries if she falls and skins her knee, but she wept a bucket of tears over one of the chicks that died hatching out of its egg.”
“Samuel would spoil her rotten, if I let him. And the older children give in to her. It was one thing when she was a baby,” Anna said, taking up her needle again and searching for a spool of thread, “but I’ll do her no favors if I let her do as she pleases.”
Leah smoothed out the pillow casing and examined the double line of stitching. “I still can’t get used to hearing Mam refer to herself as Grossmama. I keep thinking that she’s talking about Dat’s mother.”
Anna nodded. “I would have liked to bring her with me today. I think she would have enjoyed being with us. But she’s failing. The doctor says her heart is weak. She sleeps a lot.”
“I’ll come to see her tomorrow,” Leah promised. She felt guilty. She hadn’t spent much time with Grossmama since she’d come home. “Mam said that she’d gotten very quiet, but I didn’t realize that she had serious health problems.”
“Other than her wandering mind, you mean?” Rebecca put in. “I don’t think she knows who Anna is anymore. She’s always calling her Hannah.”
Leah grimaced. “Is she cross with you?” she asked Anna. She and their mam never got along very well.
Anna shook her head. “Ne. I think she lives in her own world most of the time. She likes to sit and rock in that big chair by the window. Sometimes she hums hymns, but mostly she sleeps. I don’t think we’ll have her with us long.”
“She hasn’t gone to the Senior Center in months,” Rebecca said. “She used to teach other women how to make rugs, but she’s not able to do that anymore. She wants her sewing bag beside her chair, but she doesn’t open it. It makes me sad. I think I’d rather have her fussing at us.”
“The Lord will take her in His own time,” Anna said. “Samuel has talked about bringing one of his cousin’s daughters here to help me if Grossmama can’t get to the bathroom on her own. He’s so good with her.” Anna smiled. “She thinks he is our father, and Samuel doesn’t tell her different. He can coax her to eat when none of us can. I was truly blessed to find such a husband.”
“Ya,” Rebecca agreed. “Samuel is the best of men.” She stuffed another handful of down into a bulging pillow casing. “Best of all, he cherishes you, Anna.”
Anna’s full cheeks flushed a deeper red. “Such things you say.”
“It’s true, everyone knows it,” Rebecca insisted. “And it’s no more than you deserve.”
Leah took another length of material and began on a new pillowcase. From downstairs came the sounds of children’s high-pitched voices and her mother’s laughter. She was so glad that she’d come today. Being in her mother’s house, in the place where she’d grown up, in the bosom of her family, was just what she needed.
“Can I ask you something?” she said, looking at Anna.
Her older sister smiled. “You know you can ask me anything.”
“When you and Samuel married, were you sure he was the one God intended for you?” Leah folded the casing and averted her gaze.
Anna gave a hearty laugh. “Absolutely. I couldn’t believe that a man like Samuel would care for me.”
“But why not?” Leah asked. True, Anna was a big woman, round and healthy and plain as rye bread. But her heart was the most generous of any of her sisters, and she was as good a cook, mother and homemaker as their mother. “Why wouldn’t Samuel love you?”
Anna’s cheeks reddened and her round face creased into a bashful grin. “Oh, my little sister, that you should ask. I was a fat girl with a face like a pudding. Ne, don’t try to argue. No one ever called me pretty, and with good reason. But God was good and he sent me a wonderful husband and children to love. And I know that He will do the same for you. I know that you and Thomas will—”
“I don’t want to talk about Thomas,” Leah said, looking down.
“But we have to,” Rebecca said. “At least we have to talk about your wedding. Have you picked a date?”
Leah shook her head, afraid to look up at her sisters for fear she would start to cry. “I’ve need to tell you... Thomas and I have—”
A giggle came from the doorway. “Leah loves Thomas.” Susanna walked into the room with a plate of whoopie pies. “Chocolate.” Obviously, Susanna had already tasted the oversize cookies because she had crumbs on the front of her dress and at the corners of her mouth. She giggled again. “Leah and Thomas getting married. Like me and King David.”
Leah’s throat tightened and her eyes welled with tears. “Ne. We’re not.”
“Not what?” Rebecca asked.
“Not...getting...married,” Leah managed to say between sobs. She jumped up, letting the ticking material fall to the floor unheeded. Clapping her hands over her face, she ran from the room and down the hall to her old bedroom. She dashed inside, slamming the door behind her and threw herself on the double bed. She pulled a pillow over her head to muffle her weeping, but it did no good.
All three of her sisters followed her into the bedroom. Susanna, who could never stand to see anyone cry, began to wail herself. Rebecca tried to comfort Susanna while Anna sat on the bed beside Leah and pulled her into her arms.
“Leah, Leah, what is it?” Anna asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Leah sobbed.
“Something certainly is wrong,” Anna said.
Susanna dissolved into tears again. “Don’t...don’t cry, Leah.”
Leah sat up and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry.” Anna’s arms were strong and warm, and she leaned against her sister. “Thomas and... I...we...”
“You argued. It happens.” Rebecca sat on the other side of the bed. “What did you quarrel about?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Leah said. “I can’t marry him. We broke up.”
“Have you told Mam?” Anna asked her. “You have to tell Mam.”
“Ne. I can’t.” Leah sniffed. “I don’t want to.”
Rebecca stroked her arm. “All couples have spats,” she said. “You can talk it out. In a day or two, this will be behind you.”
“It won’t,” Leah said, fresh tears welling in her eyes. “It’s over. I can’t explain. But neither can I be his wife. Not now, not ever.”
* * *
“Whoa, whoa.” Thomas took a firm grip on the halter and soothed the nervous bay horse. “Easy, boy. This won’t hurt.” The gelding rolled his eyes. He laid his ears back and shifted his weight from one leg to another. “Careful,” Thomas warned Jakob. “He might kick.”
“Not if I can get this leg up, he won’t,” the little man answered.
Smoke rose from the forge, curling up to lie thick beneath the roof of the smithy. It was raining out and they’d had to bring the horse inside to shoe him. The confines of the building made it all the more important that they keep the animal under control. Had it been up to Thomas, they would have taken him across the yard to the barn and done the work in a stall, but Jakob assured him that they could manage here.
“The horse will be fine,” Jakob said. “He just likes to act up a little to show us who’s boss. Once we convince him otherwise, he’ll calm down.”
“I could blindfold him,” Thomas offered. It was an old trick of his grandfather’s for dealing with skittish animals.
“Ne, no need.” Jakob stroked the horse’s rump and spoke to the animal in a soft, singsong voice. He ran his hands down the gelding’s hip and leg, then pressed his weight against the horse as he lifted the back hoof. The horse gave a nervous snort, caught its balance on three legs and stood still. “See, what did I tell you?” Jakob said. He pried away the old shoe and cast it aside. With a curved knife, he trimmed the hoof, traded that tool for a pick and cleaned the hoof.
Thomas scratched under the horse’s chin. “Good boy,” he repeated. The animal’s nostrils flared and he trembled, but he didn’t make any attempt to break free.
“I took the wagon down to the chair shop to pick up a chest of drawers for your grandmother,” Jakob said. “And who do you suppose was there to use the telephone?”
Thomas sighed. “I can guess.”
“That pretty little schoolteacher, that’s who.” Jakob fitted the new shoe against the hoof. “She pretended not to see me, but I know better. I offered to give her a ride home in the wagon.”
“And what did she say to that?”
Jakob laughed. “She likes me. I can tell. But she’s a lot like this horse. Trying to bluff me. You were right. She’s tough. But she’ll come around.”
“You think so, do you?” Thomas chuckled.
“Why wouldn’t she? Now that you’re getting hitched, how many handsome, charming single men are there left in Seven Poplars?”
“Including yourself in that group, are you?”
“Truth’s truth, Thomas. I’m a catch, if I do say so myself. I’ll make a fine husband. And I’ve decided that Ellie’s the one.”
“Not doing too good so far, are you?”
“No need to be negative,” Jakob said, driving the first nail into the horse’s hoof. “The Lord helps those who help themselves. I’ve got plans.”
“I can’t wait to hear them.”
“You and Leah are getting married. Between you, you’re related to most of the people in the county. It will be a big wedding and you’ll need lots of attendants. I’d like to offer my services to be one. Since Leah and Ellie are friends, Leah is bound to ask her. I’ll arrange to have us paired off together for the work and later, sitting together at the wedding dinner.” Jakob grinned. “Nothing like a wedding to make a young woman inclined to think of love.”
“Just one problem with your plan,” Thomas said, rubbing the gelding’s nose. His voice sounded strange in his own ears. “Leah and I aren’t getting married.”
“What happened? Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet? You can’t stay a bachelor forever, you know. Leah’s perfect for you.”
“Ne, apparently not. She was the one who broke it off with me.”
Jakob’s voice tightened. “You didn’t get fresh with her, did you?”
“Of course not,” Thomas said. “Who do you think I am?”
“A fool if you don’t marry her.”
“I’m telling you. She won’t have me.”
“Why not? What happened?”
Thomas shook his head. “I don’t really know. I... I was trying to talk to her about something. You know...kind of wanting to think something through out loud and she just...she got really angry with me. Flew right off the handle, which isn’t like her.” He glanced at Jakob. “Not like her at all,” he repeated, as much to himself as to Jakob.
“You can’t let your courtship end like that,” Jakob said. “You’ve got to talk it out. Be sure the argument is about what you thought it was about.”
“What?” Thomas said, pushing his hat back off his head.
“Be sure she’s mad about what you think she’s mad about. Women can be funny like that sometimes. They’re complicated. You think she’s upset about one thing when she’s upset about another. You said yourself that her reaction didn’t make sense. Talk to her.”
“I don’t know,” Thomas hemmed. “I’m not sure she will even talk to me.”
“Don’t give up, I’m telling you. Don’t take no for an answer,” Jakob insisted. “You have to patch this up and go on with the wedding. You’ll never be happy if you lose her, and I’d have to come up with a whole new plan to charm that little schoolteacher.”