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A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Page 2
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Thankfully, Jacob Yoder turned the talk to Ira and Rose Miller, the banned couple who had attended the service today to confess their sins to the community.
“Such a pickle Ira got into, all over that Jeep.” Nate touched his beard lightly.
“No driving means no driving.” Jacob pushed his glasses up on his nose.
Jonah knew that Jacob was right, but knowing the rules didn’t make shunning any less painful. His gaze skimmed past the tables where the ministers and older members were sitting down to full plates—the first shift of lunch.
A small table, barely bigger than a sewing table, had been set off to the side near the rose trellis. Not the most desirable spot, with fat bumblebees buzzing over the late blooms. Old Ira Miller sat there with his wife, Rose, but they had no food yet. They would have to wait until every member in good standing had eaten, and a member could not take a plate from their hands.
A person in the Bann had to be separated from the rest of the community. There was a reason for the rules, and yet Jonah felt a pang of sympathy for the older couple. How miserable it would feel to be shunned.
“Where did that car come from, anyway?” Uncle Nate asked.
“It belongs to his son,” Jonah offered. “Ira’s Zed left it behind when he left the community. It’s sitting on the side of the road with a ‘For Sale’ sign in the window now. I pass it every time I take the covered bridge into Paradise.” He stopped himself, not wanting to be one of the gossips.
“Bishop Samuel warned him many times to put it up, but Ira did nothing.” Jacob shrugged. “What else could the bishop do but bring on the bann?”
“Mmm.” Uncle Nate’s lips curled to one side. “Cars have tempted many a good man. Didn’t you and your brother drive a Ford back in your rumspringa?” he asked, squinting at Jacob.
Jacob’s cheeks flushed red above his beard, but he smiled. “That was a very good car. When you pressed the gas, it could really gallop. Faster than any horse I ever knew.”
“Fast, but you can’t feed a car hay and oats.”
The two older men chuckled.
“Those days are far behind us now,” Jacob said with a sigh.
Nate nodded. “Ah, but sometimes it seems like yesterday.”
Seeing the smile on his uncle’s face, Jonah wondered if his own father had ever learned to drive a car. Dat had never spoken of it, but Jonah knew it was something most young men tried.
Even Jonah. He was embarrassed to admit it now, but he had driven the very Jeep that had gotten Ira in trouble. Zed had taught Jonah everything about the vehicle. How many times had they climbed dusty hills and plunged through the low part of the river in that Jeep? He remembered gripping the stick shift, the pattern of the gears like a road map in his mind. He’d been a good driver, but he’d known that driving wasn’t going to be a part of his life. Jonah would never stray far from the path of the Amish.
“Time marches on,” Jacob said wistfully. “Now we have our own boys in rumspringa. Hard to believe. And you and Betsy have an Englisher girl living with you.” He tipped his hat back, squinting at Nate.
“We do. But Remy’s living Plain now. She’s been going to the classes. Going to get baptized.”
“Is she learning the language?”
“She’s getting better at it,” Nate said.
“The little ones love to teach her words,” Jonah said. Remy’s arrival had overturned the applecart for his family, but Jonah had to admit, she was trying to fit in.
Jacob pushed his glasses up on his nose. “She seems like a nice girl, but do you think she’ll really stay? Some Englishers like to dabble with Amish life, but they never stick with it.”
“I think Remy is a special one.” Nate’s brown eyes scanned the gathering on the lawn.
Jonah followed his uncle’s gaze to the girl in the purple dress, her bright orange hair framing the edge of her kapp. She was helping the women serve the meal. For an Englisher, she was a hard worker.
“All I know is that Remy is quick to pitch in, and Betsy likes her sunny outlook,” Nate added. “I think she’ll stick around.”
Jonah nodded in agreement, but Jacob shook his head doubtfully. “You can’t make a Jersey into a Holstein.”
Uncle Nate laughed. “That’s true.”
Jonah held his tongue, though he was bothered by the small-mindedness of some people in the district. To compare a young girl to a cow?
It was a relief when the older men were called to sit for the meal.
Saved by the lunch bell.
THREE
As Annie poured water at the men’s table, she tried not to stare at the girl serving potato salad. Ever since the Englisher girl had come along, Annie had kept her distance. In her mind she pictured Remy McCallister as a sneaky spider who’d gotten her venom into Adam. A fiery red spider!
At first, her face had burned with embarrassment whenever she saw Remy with Adam at a singing, the two of them looking so in love. Bad enough that he’d chosen someone else. Annie also wondered what people thought of her now that the man she had hoped to marry was with an Englisher girl.
And it hadn’t been easy these last two weeks, having Adam and his brother Jonah around the house, helping Dat fix the section of the roof that had blown off in a storm. To walk out the door and see him carting shingles or swinging a hammer on the roof—that was uncomfortable.
Annie had done her best to stay away from Adam and his girlfriend. But now, with Remy standing right in front of her, well, a person had to look somewhere. Her gaze caught on the tight bun under the Amish kapp Remy wore. Such an unusual color of hair, orange and bright as the setting sun.
Watching her now, Annie saw that Remy didn’t resemble a spider at all. No, she was really just a girl, not much older than Annie. Remy was learning Pennsylvania Dutch, as well as pitching in with the cooking and the cleaning. The girl was already dressing Plain, though she would always stand out among the Amish with that hair the color of fire.
As she filled another cup with water, Annie tasted bitterness on the back of her tongue. Disappointment was sour. Her path had seemed straight and clear once, but now she was tangled in a thicket of thorns.
Twenty and without a beau.
Annie lifted her pitcher—almost empty—and looked back at Remy, who was now over at a smaller table near the rosebushes. Her smile was sweet as warm honey as she leaned forward and let the people there help themselves to potato salad. And the man and woman smiled right back at her in appreciation.
Annie’s jaw dropped open. Oh, no! That was Ira Miller and his wife, and the couple was still in the bann!
Quick as a butterfly, Annie hurried over to the small table set off by the side of the yard. Remy was heading over to the men’s table with the big bowl.
“You can’t do that,” Annie said breathlessly. She put her hands on the plastic bowl and nudged it from Remy’s grip. “You can’t serve this to anyone else now that they’ve dipped into it.”
Remy’s green eyes opened wide. “I don’t think anyone will really mind.” She lifted the spoon from the bowl Annie was now holding and covered up the missing portions. “See? No one will notice.”
“That doesn’t matter. It’s just not allowed.” Annie felt her face growing warm. She didn’t want to make a big scene, but she couldn’t let this bowl be passed around. “Don’t you know that Ira and Rose Miller are being shunned?” she asked in a lowered voice.
“I saw them confess, but …” She glanced back at the table where the couple was eating quietly. “The bishop let them attend church today. Isn’t the shunning over?”
“Not yet. There’s one more week. And while they’re being shunned, the rest of the district can’t be eating food that’s been dipped in by them.”
Remy frowned. “It’s just a bowl of potato salad.…”
What would it take to make the girl understand? “It’s the rules when someone is in the bann,” Annie said emphatically. “It’s always been this way.”
�
��Annie’s right.” Annie’s mother, Lovina, was suddenly at her side. “We must meide them. You see? That’s why they’re seated at their own table.”
“I didn’t realize that—” Remy’s face grew pale as the truth set in. “I didn’t think they’d even be allowed here if they were shunned.”
“The rules of shunning can be complicated,” Lovina said.
“I’m so sorry.” Tears glistened in Remy’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to break any rules.”
For the first time, Annie felt a tug of sympathy for the girl. She couldn’t help it if she was an outsider.
Lovina patted Remy’s shoulder. “This is just a pebble on the path. Now tell me, is that the bowl?” When Annie nodded, her mother took it from her hands. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of this. We’ll give it to Ira and Rose to take home with them.” She cocked her head as she eyed the bowl. “Though it is quite a lot of potato salad for two people.”
Just as quickly as Mamm had popped up beside them, she disappeared around the side of the house, and Annie found herself alone with this girl she barely knew. A girl on the verge of tears.
Remy swiped at her eyes with the back of one hand, then pressed a fist to her heart. “I feel just awful. What a stupid mistake! And it could have been worse if you hadn’t stopped me.”
“You were only trying to help.” Annie’s words were sincere. She couldn’t bear to see more tears from this young woman.
Remy pressed a hand to her pale cheeks. “I feel like a fool.”
“You didn’t know,” Annie said. So many things this girl didn’t yet know, and it wasn’t her fault. In just a few months she was trying to learn everything Annie had been taught since she was a little one. “No need to fret over it. And look, the first shift is all done, and I’m hungry for a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. How about you?”
Remy sniffed. “I am sort of hungry.”
“Let’s get some food.” Without a second of hesitation Annie put a hand on Remy’s shoulder and led her over to the tables of sandwiches, salads, and desserts. Annie’s smile felt as easy as the breeze combing the grass. When she and Remy sat down together at a table, not a smidge of jealousy remained.
Soon after they sat down they were joined by Mary King and her younger sisters, teen twins Leah and Susie, and wise little Ruthie.
“It’s wonderful good to be out here in the sunshine,” Susie said brightly. “On days like this, I think summer might stay forever.”
“It’s a trick of nature,” Mary said. “One day it’s summer, the next day we’re huddling by the stove before dawn.”
“I like the changing seasons,” Ruthie said. “I’m always looking forward to the next one. It’s hard to pick a favorite.” She paused with a pickle halfway to her mouth. “Remy? You’re white as a pastry board. What happened?”
“I made a stupid mistake,” Remy said. “But Annie here saved me from making it worse.”
Annie felt a blush of warmth as Remy recalled the incident over the potato salad and the shunned couple. Adam’s Englisher girl had a good heart.
“And you didn’t know about dipping,” Mary said sympathetically. “Once a shunned person serves himself from community food, members in good standing can’t eat from that bowl or platter.”
Remy rubbed the back of her neck. “That’s one lesson I’ll never forget. But the couple is so sweet. It’s hard to believe they were shunned.”
“I know.” Ruthie nodded. “Rose Miller taught me how to embroider flowers at Mamm’s quilting bees. She was so very kind.”
“Good folks are put in the bann sometimes,” Mary said. “It’s got to be done so that people obey the rules.”
Annie could see the confusion shadowing the young faces of the girls at the table. “I know it’s hard to understand, but I’ve never seen our bishop put a member under the bann without giving the person lots of chances. It’s a last resort that usually comes only after many warnings.”
Ruthie seemed lost in thought as she pulled the crust from her bread. “I’ll be glad when the shunning is over. I’d like to learn some more embroidery from Rose. Maybe she’ll come to our next quilting.”
“That would be wonderful good.” Mary nodded at her younger sister.
“Maybe I can glean a few shortcuts from Rose,” Remy said. “I have a lot of catching up to do.”
“You’ll get there,” Annie said encouragingly.
“You haven’t seen me sew,” Remy said. “It’s quite a challenge for me. Leah and Susie have been helping me, but I’m all thumbs.”
Leah and Susie exchanged a mischievous look, then bubbled over with laughter. “Remember the time you were embroidering a patch and you accidentally sewed it onto your dress?” Leah asked.
Remy pressed a hand to her mouth to cover her grin. “I don’t think anyone is going to let me forget that little mishap.”
“I’ve already forgotten it,” Ruthie said. “Your quilting is getting better and better every time you pick up a needle.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, Ruthie, but I can accept my limitations. I’ll keep to the kitchen while you and your sisters manage the quilt business.” Like most Amish women, Esther King had started her girls quilting at a young age. Selling the quilts at markets had become one of the family’s side businesses.
“But you’re going to be our sister soon.” Ruthie’s eyes were round with mirth as she bit into her sandwich.
Remy’s face softened with pleasure, and Annie felt a twinge of longing. Her heart ached to have a beau, a man she loved. Someone to start a life and a family with … a baby in her arms and a toddler hanging on her skirt. Wasn’t that the dream of every Amish girl?
“Ya, time to learn the family business,” Susie teased Remy.
“I’ll keep trying,” Remy said, “but honestly, I think I’d have better luck learning to milk a cow.”
The King girls burst out laughing.
“What’s that about?” Annie asked.
Remy rolled her eyes. “I think they’re remembering the time I tried to help milk the cows in my nightgown. Let’s just say, I don’t have dairy skills either.”
“But you always try to pitch in,” Susie said. “You’re a helper.”
“And a good worker,” Mary added.
Annie nibbled on delicious apple Schnitz, enjoying the banter between Remy and the King girls. What a difference a day could make! Only a few hours ago she had thought very mean thoughts about Remy. Ya, she had judged her, just as Preacher Dave had spoken of today. And to think, she had pictured Remy as an orange spider who’d attacked Adam. This girl was gentle as a lamb.
Laughter bubbled from her throat. How silly she’d been.
“What are you laughing at?” Mary asked.
Annie hesitated, noticing the expectant faces of Remy and the King girls. “I’m laughing at my own addled brain,” Annie said.
FOUR
Are you sure no one will see us?” Gabriel King asked his cousin Ben as his horse Mercury trotted the buggy down the road. Anyone passing them would think they were just out for a quiet ride on a Sunday afternoon. That was how it looked—and Gabe wanted to keep it that way.
“I told you, Blake and his father have built a whole maze of trails on their property. It’s way off the road, and it backs up to the woods. No one will ever know we’re there.” Ben pointed up to the road ahead. “See that blue mailbox on the right? Turn there.”
Gabe shifted the reins so that Mercury turned down the paved lane that split off from the main road. “And Blake won’t mind me coming along?”
“He said that I should bring my friends. The more the merrier—that’s what he said.” Ben gave his shoulder a shove. “Don’t be such a nervous Nellie.”
“I’m not nervous.” Gabe cocked his hat back on his head. “I just don’t want to get caught doing things that are against the Ordnung.”
Ben gestured toward the land and trees around them—the red maples, the whispering leaves of the birch trees, the stubby
fields, golden in the late-afternoon sunlight. “Who’s around to catch us?”
“I’m just saying there’d be a price to pay with the bishop.” And with his brother Adam, too. Adam wasn’t so easy about looking the other way during rumspringa like most Amish parents.
“Take it easy.” Ben slapped his knee. “We’re just doing some friendly socializing on a Sunday afternoon.”
“I’m not worried about that,” Gabe said. “And it’s not what I came here for.”
It was fine for Amish youth to socialize with friends on the Sabbath, but the sort of activity they were about to take on would be frowned upon any day of the week. Gabe knew that, but still, he couldn’t resist the excitement of what Blake Gooden had to offer.
Gabe had never met Blake. He’d never really been friends with an Englisher before Remy McCallister had come along, and she was more a family friend. But ever since Cousin Ben had met Blake, the Englisher boy and his collection of dirt bikes were all that Ben wanted to talk about when the older folk weren’t around. Ben had met Blake at a horse auction with his father. They had talked for a while, and Blake had invited Ben over to check out “some real horsepower.” At least, that was how Ben had told the story. All that Gabe knew for sure was that this guy had some fast motorbikes, something Gabe had always wanted to try.
When they pulled around to the back of the sprawling house surrounded by porches and tall poplar trees, an older man paced on the back deck, talking on his cell phone.
“That’s not Blake.” Ben looked toward the scattered hay bales and trails on the other side of the fence and cupped his ear. A high whining sound pealed from the back acres. “Hear that? That’s Blake.”
The man on the phone waved at them, then turned away to finish his conversation. As Gabe hopped down from the buggy and tied Mercury up to a hitching post near water, he hoped his cousin was right about this Blake fella. It wasn’t often that Gabe went out of his way to meet someone, especially an Englisher.
“This had better be good,” Gabe muttered under his breath.
“You’ll see.” Ben nodded, his lips banded together smugly as the bike whined closer, appearing on the path that wound around the barn. Once it was in sight, the bike closed the distance fast. It shot toward them, then skidded to a stop, spraying dust. The rider was cool and mysterious behind a full helmet with smoky glass covering his face.