Tears continued to well, threatening to spill down Ariana’s face. Her hands trembled as she held on tightly to the reins while driving through historic Summer Grove toward her café. The streetlights gave off a warm glow, powering through the gloom of winter and dancing snow. She swallowed hard. She should bask in the beauty of this quaint town she loved so dearly, but instead of joy surging, her heart wept.
How could the ministers have said those things about her and in front of everyone? The bishop, preacher, and deacon hadn’t called her out by name, but they used her incidents with the cell phone, her going to the B&B, and her meeting with two worldly men as indications of rebellion. If the listeners weren’t clear who the ministers were alluding to, the deacon said it was the same girl who, at fifteen years old, refused to hand over a letter she’d been given from a young man who’d left the Amish, taking a teen girl with him.
Everyone then knew he was talking about her. Quill had put the letter in her hand five and a half years ago on the day he left the Amish, taking Frieda with him. His goal had been to share enough about what was happening that Ariana wouldn’t grieve as hard or as long over losing her two dearest friends. She had run home before reading it, hoping her Daed could explain what was happening. The deacon happened to be at her house and insisted she give him the letter. Fearing Quill had divulged something, such as an address, that would cause problems for him and Frieda, Ariana tore it up and held the remnants under the faucet.
When it was the bishop’s turn to preach, he said the fruit of such rebellion caused that same girl to be with a worldly man as he gave a large donation to MAP. His captive audience gasped when they learned that. He used her unwillingness to submit to her Daed about the phone as a demonstration of how anyone who spent time in the world would return more rebellious. And he warned that if the willfulness didn’t stop, such a person would be in jeopardy of going to hell.
More rebellious?
The desire to look the bishop in the eyes and tell him what she really thought made her heart race. She hadn’t been rebellious in her young years. Never. Not at all. The ministers could convince themselves and the community otherwise, but they could not convince her.
Her cell phone buzzed. She had retrieved it from the hayloft before getting into the buggy. It’d been in the loft a week, and the cold had drained the batteries, so how did it have enough energy to ring? She dug it out of her coat pocket and read “Dad” on the screen. She swallowed hard, not wanting to talk to anyone, not wanting anyone to hear her voice quiver and crack as she tried to control her emotions. But when she’d grabbed her phone from its hiding place, she realized he’d tried to reach her seventeen times since she’d returned home from the B&B eight days ago.
She swiped a cold finger across the screen and hoped she could force happiness into her voice. “Hey, how are you?” Her voice cracked, and tears threatened once again, but she forged ahead, hoping to avoid his asking too many questions. “I’m in a rig, driving, and it’s really cold.” Would that excuse cover why she sounded so weird?
“That was more words than you used the entire first week you were here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You were even more quiet during driving lessons, and I…” He continued talking, but her mind couldn’t focus on small talk, so his voice faded.
She had sinned. She would never deny that the ministers were right about that. Often she thought too highly of herself, convinced she could do anything set before her and much more. But when faced with the stress of action, she fell apart instead of being strong and having rock-solid faith. Unfortunately that same character deficit was trying to take over again. Or maybe it wasn’t a lack of character. Maybe it was just being human—her way and the wiring of her humanness.
She turned onto the small street that led to the lot behind her café, drove onto the snow-covered area, and stopped the rig. The ministers blamed her for what was happening, saying that keeping bad company corrupted good morals and that if one’s biological parent is worldly, the child must follow Jesus and choose to let the dead bury their dead, choose to forsake family to follow Christ.
The verbal assault was every bit as painful and humiliating as taking a physical beating. She hurt for her family and for Rudy. They deserved to be honored, not humiliated.
Tears worked free, drizzling down her cheeks. The salty warmness turned frigid, burning her cheeks. Wind and snow swirled, threatening to freeze any tears, even inside the rig.
“Ariana?”
What had he been saying?
“Ya, I’m here,” she whispered, unable to speak any louder because of the emotions pounding her.
“Is everything okay?”
“How are Brandi, Gabe, and Cameron?” She’d exchanged a few lighthearted texts with her mom, stepdad, and stepsister while at the B&B without revealing her state of mind or where she was. But she hadn’t spoken to them since leaving their house two weeks ago. It wouldn’t help them deal with her absence if they discovered she’d been home only one night before she needed to get away for a week. It would hurt and worry her mom most of all.
“Fine. They’re ready to get more texts from you, and I know that because they texted me to see if I’d heard from you. I told them only during your first week away, just as they did.”
“You didn’t tell them about the B&B, did you?”
“Not a word.”
“Thanks.”
She missed them. Cameron would definitely have some choice quips about the bishop and lots of humor to get Ariana through this grief-filled saga. Brandi would take her out to the movies and to dinner and shopping. Spending money was the upper-middle-class Englisch answer for a lot of emotional upsets. “You won’t believe where I am. I’ve just pulled up to my café.”
“Ari, you don’t sound good.”
His concern flooded her, and thoughts of fun with Cameron and Brandi disappeared. “I…I’m fine.” She brushed away a tear. “You know, cold but just fine.”
The windows of the rig were frosty, impairing her view of the café. Her hands trembled harder as she got out of the carriage. Were the ministers trying to run her off?
She needed to keep talking. It was the stops and starts that allowed her emotions to overwhelm her. “The café looks so different from when I left here, even from behind.”
There was a permanent lean-to in place to protect the horses of the café workers from bad weather. Horse blankets hung over a rail in the lean-to, and there were feed and water troughs. All those things had been on her to-do list, but they hadn’t ranked high enough to get done in the short time between purchasing the café and having to leave home.
But there was one thing that hadn’t been on her to-do list: an ugly generator. It sat against the back of the café under another lean-to. “There is a generator outside the back door of the café.”
Abram had said it was absolutely necessary for running the café successfully. Apparently the many types of coffee served were part of the success that only Skylar knew how to pull off.
She took the key out of her coat pocket and went to the weatherworn wooden back door of the café.
“Ah, but how well does the generator work?”
“Great…” She jiggled the key until it turned. “Or so I’ve been told.” Why would she say that?
“That’s what you’ve been told? You don’t know?”
Her vision blurred with tears. “This is my first time to be in the café. I’ve been grounded since coming home.” Why couldn’t she just shut up? Two sobs escaped her before she gained control. “It’s such a mess. I’m right where I want to be, but the ministers are so angry with me, and it’s not just me they are taking it out on. They found a way to embarrass Mamm, Daed, my family, and Rudy.” She leaned her head against the door. “I don’t know what to do to make it better. And Daed…” She felt so bad for him, and yet he was being as difficult as the bishop. The difference was she knew Daed’s heart was in the right place, even if his understanding wasn’t.
“What about him?”
“Daed found my phone. Long story short, I took it back and refused to turn it over when he demanded. I think that more than anything else is why I’m grounded.”
“Has he lost his mind?” Nicholas growled.
“You’re going to judge him for jostling my life? He’s being no worse than you were when I first arrived there, and his fears are the same—that I’m going to ruin my life by not seeing the truth.”
Nicholas sighed and said nothing for nearly a minute. “You’re right. I see that. You could give him the phone. I’ll get you another, and—”
“I’ve thought of that, but no. Step into my shoes for a minute. Imagine being me, raised like me, poor and with Amish rules, and the phone is the first gift your real dad gave you.”
“I see what you mean, and your description means a lot.” His voice was soft, as if her words had truly moved him. “Sort of ironic that you didn’t feel that way at all when I gave it to you, and two weeks ago as you were getting out of my car to go back to your Amish world, I had to beg you to keep it.”
“I know. Since then, and maybe not fully until the last few days, I’ve realized that I’ve grown to like it, just like we grew to get along and understand each other.” Her mind cleared as she defended her right to hold on to the phone. It had every text she’d sent or received. It had the first pictures she’d ever taken. It testified to her first contact with Frieda in five years. It had the images she’d seen firsthand as she and Nicholas crisscrossed the country. “After a lifetime of walking to a community phone to make a call, I can’t explain how this phone makes me feel. It was my first taste of having any information I wanted at my fingertips. Information is power. You know that. This tiny device means I don’t have to rely on what I’m told. I can Google anything, read, and think. The GPS guided me while I drove. Somewhere in the past two weeks, I realized this device represents the Englisch side of me, and I’m not giving it up.”
“You sure you’re not wavering on this topic?” Nicholas teased.
Ariana’s whispery laugh was a mixture of tears and relief. “Apparently I’m suddenly positive of one thing about myself, and interestingly enough that piece of understanding is wrapped in the word no.”
No, she wasn’t giving up her phone. No, she wasn’t yielding to what Daed or the church said she needed to do. No.
A feeling of foolishness skittered through her. She sounded like a toddler. But then passages in First Corinthians about love came to mind. Scripture was clear on what love is, deliciously clear and encouraging. In the list that defined love, the first two items described what it is, and that was followed by eight things it isn’t. After that, the list returned to what love is, but the list of what it isn’t helped to clarify what it is.
When she and Nicholas ended this call, she should look up that passage on her phone.
“Ari, is your cell the only problem? I ask because maybe we could come up with some other solution that would appease people and smooth things over.”
“No, there’s more but nothing fixable.”
“Indulge me, please.”
She hesitated.
“Ariana, if you’re surviving the thick of battle, I assure you I can handle hearing about it.”
“You won’t like it, but word got back to the bishop that I saw you and Quill while at the B&B and that you made a donation to MAP.”
“I’m so sorry, Ari. I didn’t think…”
“You meant no harm.” One of the things whipping her emotions into an unbearable state dawned on her. “I really resent the bishop telling me that I’ll go to hell if I don’t do as Daed and he want.”
Nicholas cursed. “He said that to you?”
“In his own way—indirect directness—ya.” Ariana drew a deep breath. “Before I left here, before you shoved academia at me, I would’ve believed him, and now, even though it’s possible he’s right, I’m angry that he’s using it to try to manipulate and control me.”
“He’s not right, Ari, and you should begrudge it.” A beeping sound came through the line, as if he was turning on his computer. “Listen, you need to leave there. I’ll come get you. We’ll buy a new café elsewhere. You can’t let these people use you to confirm they have the answers when they don’t.”
What? “Walking away would never, ever be the answer. You think I should walk away while Daed and I are at odds like this? Do you know what that would do to him?”
“I don’t care! He’s dead wrong. He’s not only hurting you, but he’s also allowing the ministers and the community to pile on you, and—”
“Whoa!” She paced around the café. “No. Just no.” There was that word again, defining who she was on another topic. “That man you’re so very willing to criticize is the only reason I’m alive, the only reason my mom is alive. If she’d died, where would I be? Or maybe the question is where would Skylar be? With you?”
The very hour that she, Skylar, and Abram were born, a fire swept through the clinic, burning it to the ground. Her Daed, the man who raised her and was overwhelmed with fear concerning the direction of her life, could’ve easily chosen to rescue only his wife, Mamm, and their newborn twins—Abram and Skylar. If it hadn’t been for Daed’s heroism and effort, Ariana’s real mom, Brandi, would’ve died before an ambulance could get to her. If Ariana had survived the fire and been paired with the right mom, where would she be now? Nicholas wouldn’t have raised her. When she was born, he’d been married to someone else, and he’d wanted Brandi to end the pregnancy. Ariana could’ve been put up for adoption.
“The possibilities of who would be where today are overwhelming to think about.” But empathy for who Nicholas was now caused her to reel in her emotions. He regretted being that man, and he couldn’t undo it. “Dad, all I’m trying to say is people clearly mishandle situations because their understanding and motivations are wrong. I’m not walking out on my Daed and the Brenneman family. That’s about all I know right now, but look at how differently you and I see life, politics, and faith today compared to four months ago.”
“You’re right. I see those things vastly different. But, Ari, I’ve never known anyone who looks at things the way you do.” His contrition was clear, and she wished it were as easy to change the minds and hearts of Amish men.
“I’m not as clear headed as I sounded just then. I only know that Daed deserves time and respect and that I feel a bit like a traitor.”
“Why?”
“You were the bad guy in all our minds only a few months ago, and everything you stood for was evil. Now I’m on the phone with you, talking about them as if I’ve switched sides.”
“Could we find middle ground?”
That was a really good question. Was there any middle ground? If so, could she find it? “I used to think the same way as the congregation did this morning—that people need to be either fully in or get out, way out, as in no contact. And there are some scriptures that back that kind of thinking.”
“I imagine we could find scriptures that also give balance to those verses. Would you like us to try that?”
“Maybe later.” Who would’ve thought that Nicholas Jenkins would be someone she could be brutally honest with and confide in? She was grateful he encouraged her to speak out. When she did, her mind cleared a bit. Maybe that’s why the world was so quick to grab an opinion. Whether the view was right or wrong, it brought a measure of clarity to the confusion.
She stared at the exquisite old wood floors. A fresh ache mixed with the new joy of finally being inside her café again.
“The café is charming.”
He cleared his throat. “So walk me through it and tell me all about it.”
The kindness in his voice strengthened her. Her breath was frosty, but there was no potbelly stove installed as she had intended. She walked down the small hall, looking into the kitchen area, noticing how well organized and spotless it was. “The kitchen is endearing with hanging pots, open shelves filled with clean dishes, a huge double sink, and an old refrigerator. Everything is spotless and is either powered by natural gas or the generator. But something has a funny-sounding squeal to it.”
As she searched for the noise, she paused a few steps from the ordering counter and looked out at the tables filling the dining area. “Behind the ordering bar is a long countertop that is now filled with shiny silver coffeemakers and gadgets of all types. I have no idea how to operate those.”
“Sounds as if Skylar may need to walk you through that.”
Ariana couldn’t imagine Skylar showing her anything except the front door. Ariana would be glad to go out the front door, but she couldn’t right now. If she moved in with Berta, it would put her under suspicion of helping Ariana remain rebellious. The café had a good loft, but if Ariana lived here, it would hurt her Daed and embarrass him in front of the community. Besides, if he refused to let her move here and she did so anyway, he could insist Abram, Susie, Martha, and Skylar not come here to help out. Maybe they would come anyway, at least some of them, but it would cause a rift, and she wouldn’t be a part of that.
She decided to change the subject. “Abram was right. It is all very quaint and nice, despite the Englisch technology.”
“Will you try your hand at making coffee?”
“Abram said they’ve taken the percolator home, and they now have no way to make coffee other than with the machines Skylar got them to order, ones that are powered by the generator.”
“Ha, you’re caught,” Nicholas teased, “if you want coffee.”
She had no choice. If she wanted to get the hang of running this place—or at least working here in a skilled manner—she needed to start the generator and figure out these machines.
The phone beeped, letting her know the battery was running low. “I better go. If I can get the generator started, I’ll recharge my phone and text you and the others later.”
“One thing first. I’ve been online, looking through Scripture as we’ve talked. Do you recall the verses about not loving the world or anything in the world?”
“By heart since before I was born, I think. It’s First John 2:15.”
“I thought you’d know that one well. So you’re also familiar with the part that says all of you know the truth?”
“I don’t recall that one.” Her heart felt a little lighter just knowing he, a nonbeliever, was trying to find answers in the only way that would help her. “What’s it talking about?” It was a perk that this meant he was still reading the Word even though she was gone. Seemed funny that his sole purpose in reading the Word when she first went to his home was to prove to her how ridiculous it was. Now he read it to be of benefit to her. That was really sweet.
“It’s just a few verses later, and there are lots of versions, but paraphrasing, it basically says you don’t need anyone to teach you right from wrong because the same anointing that was in Christ is in you and teaches you all things about truth and it is no lie.” Nicholas paused. “I know you’ll want to study that for yourself, but, Ari, it sounds to me as if the Bible itself is saying you have the right to discern between truth and a lie because of your faith in Christ.”
“You don’t believe any of that.”
“But it’s your handbook of life and liberty. Isn’t it odd that you know the verses just above it and don’t recall these at all? Are you allowing that bishop to take verses out of context and convince you that the ministers have more rights before God than your own handbook?”
“Who’s it written to?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is it talking to men? If it is, that helps me not at all.”
“Oh. No, it seems to be talking to everyone. I’m just skimming, but the writer uses the words ‘dear children’ several times and ‘dear friends’ at least once. It’s a beautiful chapter, even I can see—”
Her phone beeped and then fell completely silent. She looked at it while pushing buttons. It was dead, but at least Nicholas knew that might happen.
Silence engulfed her, as did his paraphrased words from the Bible. You don’t need anyone to teach you right from wrong because the same anointing that was in Christ is in you and teaches you all things about truth.
Was that possible? Did she have the same anointing that was in Christ? What an amazing thought. She’d settle for a little dusting of that anointing. Dear God, even a dusting of it.
It would be nice if her phone had power so she could look up the verses herself. But she was finally here, in her café, and the most immediate need was to get her phone recharged and the power going to the café. So she headed out the door to the generator. Once she had it running, she needed to learn how to use the coffee machines. She looked heavenward, seeing low-hanging clouds and flurries. In some ways her life felt as cold as this long, harsh winter and her spiritual understanding was being blown like the snow.
The squeaking noise returned, and she listened closely, trying to determine where it was coming from. With her head tilted and listening carefully, she followed the sound.
Then the noise of a rig and horses caught her attention, and Rudy pulled a carriage in behind hers and got out. “Hey.”
Rudy’s admiration of her and his sense of humor used to fill all the spaces between them, but now she felt his disappointment and rumbles of anger.
“Hi.” They stood looking at each other in the cold as winter’s wind pushed and pulled at them. The sound of squeaking continued to tug at her, but she knew better than to put something else ahead of Rudy.
He held the horse’s bridle. “I know you came here to be alone, so I won’t stay long. But I talked to the bishop and deacon privately and asked what we could do to set things right again.”
She went to him, staring up and longing for a hug. “I’m sorry, Rudy.”
She wanted to marry him and to raise their babies while bringing him honor, not disgrace. She longed to be in good standing with her Daed, the community, and the ministers. But how did she get there from here?
“I want to believe that, Ari.” He brushed his fingers down her cheek. “But this bedlam that has followed you around since you learned you weren’t a Brenneman has to end. I love you. I want to marry you. Those two things have not changed. They will not change.”
“Denki.”
“I’ve spent this week thinking, and I believe what you’ve told me about your feelings and Quill.”
“Gut.”
“If you were interested in him, why would you relentlessly push Nicholas to allow you to return to Summer Grove, to your roots, to your family, to me?”
“Ya. That’s the right conclusion, Rudy.”
“But…if there is no romance with him, and if it is as you say about Nicholas—that he chose to support MAP on his own without your influence—then do as the bishop and deacon want. Repair at least some of the damage, because right now I look and feel like an idiot. Everyone knows you asked Quill to the B&B, not me.”
“It’s exactly as I told you. He’s navigated both worlds and lived to tell about it. That’s all.” The squeaking noise tugged at her again. “Do you hear that?” She took Rudy’s hand and started toward the sound.
He pulled back, stopping her. “Ari, could you focus on us for five minutes, please?”
She glanced toward the sound before facing Rudy. “Ya. Of course.” His exhaustion seemed to spill over on her, and she just wanted peace…for everyone. “What do they require?”
“It’s simple really. They want you to repent of your contact with Quill and Nicholas and for you to give your word that you won’t see either one of them again without a minister present.”
“That’s a lot.”
“It’s the bare minimum.”
“I’ve agreed with you about Quill.” She wouldn’t want Rudy seeing or texting a young, single woman. “But Dad? Because of me, he’s reading the Bible, and—”
“No one will have all that they want, but I’ve worked out something about your phone that I think everyone can live with. You don’t have to turn it over to the ministers or your Daed.”
“That sounds promising.” But it was disappointing that he wouldn’t even let her finish her sentence about Nicholas. Although she understood Nicholas and had forgiven his faults and appreciated his strengths, all he was to Rudy was a stubborn man who’d changed the harmony and dynamics between Ariana and him.
“It’s very agreeable,” Rudy said. “You’ll turn it off and give it to me. After we’re married, the bishop will approve the phone as part of your needs for the business, and you can have it back.”
“That is a good compromise on their part. How did you manage it?”
“I talked and reasoned and bargained. The ministers take no pleasure in what’s going on.”
“They targeted me in their lengthy sermons about rebellion and hell.”
“Gossip was going to inform everyone anyway. It’s out in the open. They’ve cooled off and expressed regret for saying as much as they did.”
She cupped Rudy’s clean-shaven face. “You are a peacemaker.” She lowered her hands. “But to leave my phone turned off until we’re married?”
“Instruction begins this spring. We can marry by mid-September. That’s less than eight months.” He smiled. “It’ll take longer than that to carry a child one day. This will bring peace to the district and respect back to your Daed and Mamm.”
Her powerful defense to Nicholas for keeping the phone seemed to taunt her as it faded on the wind. “I…I’ll think about it.”
Rudy nodded and kissed her cheek. “Choose us, Ari. Above your Englisch family, your phone, and Quill, choose us.”
When he put it that way, she longed to nod her head and fall into his arms. “But my family?”
“It’s horrible luck to discover you have Englisch family, and not just any Englisch family, but, well, you know what yours are like. But we will build a new family—you, me, and our children. And the Brennemans are every bit as much your family as they were before all this.”
“I never doubted that.” The squeal faded to almost nothing, and despite it not making sense, she wanted to search for the source. “Kumm.” She tugged on his hand, hoping to direct him toward the noise.
“Nee.” Anger flashed in his eyes. “I was hoping for a more favorable response. Is that too much to ask?”
Memories of the laughter and fun they used to have whirled in her head. He’d been so patient. If he’d embarrassed her in front of everyone with news of meeting a young woman at a B&B, she wasn’t sure she’d stand near him, calmly holding out solutions.
“I want to do it for you, Rudy. I do.”
“And?”
“I…I need to think about it. I promised Mom and Cameron they could be in my life once you and I were married. I’m an only child for Brandi and Nicholas. At the very least they’ll want a few days each year with their grandchildren, and I was hoping they could come to the wedding. You can understand that, right?”
“I understand how you feel, Ari, but our reality is we have to choose what we believe over what we long for.”
“That may be easy for you to say.” He wasn’t talking about cutting his mom and dad out of his life. And beyond her parents, she had other relatives in the Englisch world who mattered too. “I’ll have to cut off part of who I am, and it’s not as if they won’t feel that cut for the rest of their lives.”
“It wasn’t easy to convince the ministers to find ground where a compromise was possible.”
“Kumm.” They needed to change the subject and get out of the cold. “I’ll put some coffee on for you while I see what that strange noise is.”
“Nee. Denki. I’m worn out from the disarray and resentment I’ve handled today, and I’m going home.” He kissed her on the lips. “And apparently you need to think.”
“I love you, Rudy.”
He smiled and kissed her cheek. “As God is my witness, I hope so, Ariana.” He winked and got in his carriage.
She waved good-bye before marching through the snow. The cold, white flakes fell inside her ankle-high black boots, and as she waded through the damp coldness, the squeaking noise grew louder. Whatever it was, it wasn’t coming from inside the café. The farther she walked into the field, the louder it got.
In the middle of a field of thick snow, she noticed a spot where the white covering was moving. She reached down and poked it. A puppy yelped.
“Ach, du liewi Bobbeli!” She dusted the snow off of it. It was a little thing, maybe no more than a month old. “Liewi, what are you doing draus here?” She tucked it inside her coat, amazed she’d heard it at all and sorry she hadn’t arrived sooner. “Let’s get you inside and give you some warm milk, ya?”