A Simple Spring: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel Page 25

  Remy turned around for a look. It was a dark sedan, much like the one that had followed them before. “That can’t be the same car.”

  Adam shrugged. “He should just go around. Or maybe he just wants to complain to his friends about how he’s always stuck behind an Amish buggy.”

  “Maybe.”

  Adam didn’t seem too concerned, but once they reached Halfway she noticed that he zigzagged through the side streets. Still the car trailed behind them.

  “He’s still following us,” Remy said.

  “Then I think he is a very bad navigator,” Adam said, a twinkle in his dark eyes.

  When they turned in to the post office the car rolled past the parking lot, and Remy watched it move off with relief. She couldn’t think why someone would want to bother Adam and her, although she had read stories of Englishers harassing Amish people to try to elicit violence.

  Tossing off the concern, she climbed down from the buggy and grabbed the two boxes from the back. A customer from one of the markets had ordered custom-made quilts from the Kings, and at last they were completed, boxed, and ready to be mailed.

  Their next stop was at the bank, where Adam insisted on taking the buggy to the drive-through window.

  “You’re kidding me,” Remy said. “You’re Amish. You’re supposed to be patient. No rushing.”

  Adam worked the reins, prompting Thunder to stop at exactly the right spot. “I like the convenience.”

  “You’re just full of surprises, Adam King.”

  He touched her knee, sending shivers of sensation through her. “Good. I want to keep you on your toes.”

  With his receipt in hand, Adam clucked and Thunder pulled forward.

  “I wonder how it went when Sadie quit the band today,” Adam said.

  “That must have been hard for her. I’ll bet she’s upset about it.”

  Adam gestured toward the road ahead. “There’s the Halfway Hotel, at the end of the block. Sadie’s working her shift right now. Maybe we should stop by and cheer her up.”

  His idea tugged at Remy’s heart. Although Adam had to follow the rules of the Ordnung, he wasn’t afraid to show compassion to his family. “That’s a wonderful good idea.”

  The young woman behind the desk of the Halfway Hotel had an expression that seemed to be permanently sour and a name tag that read: Lorraine.

  “Hi.” Remy put her palms on the high counter. “We’re looking for an employee here … Sadie King?”

  “Sadie?” The young woman squinted. “She hasn’t worked here for a long time.”

  Remy blinked in surprise. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Sadie King?” With a small pool of surnames, it wasn’t unusual to have two people in the same town who had the same name. “Ours is about this tall. Amber eyes and light brown hair?” A door behind the desk opened, and a tall, middle-aged man emerged. “Oh, and she likes to sing.”

  “Yeah, that’s her.”

  “I don’t believe it.” Remy glanced up at Adam, who remained silent, though his eyes began to smolder with suspicion.

  The man stepped up to the desk. “Is there a problem I can help with?”

  “We’re looking for my sister, Sadie King,” Adam said in a flat voice. “We thought she would be working here tonight.”

  “No, not anymore. Lorraine is right. I had to let Sadie go a while back. In April, I think. Sometime before Easter. I haven’t seen her since then.”

  Adam touched the brim of his straw hat. “Thank you for your time.”

  Her spirits sank as Remy followed Adam out the door. “What does this mean?” He was walking so briskly, she had to hurry to keep up with him.

  “She’s been lying to me. Lying to the whole family.” Adam fairly leaped into the buggy.

  She climbed in beside him and touched his arm, trying to still him for a moment. “So she’s been lying. She said she was going to work, but went somewhere else instead. Probably to practice with her band. It’s not the end of the world.”

  “Don’t defend her, Remy. There’s nothing good about a lie.”

  “Lying is a terrible thing, but she made a mistake. We’re all human.”

  He shook his head. “No. There’s no room for mistakes when you’re breaking the rules. She disobeyed the Ordnung.”

  “What about forgiveness? Isn’t that at the core of Amish life?”

  “Not with this. The logic may seem twisted, but that’s how it is with the Amish. You may not know all the rules yet, but Sadie does. She knows the rules and she broke them. I don’t want to think what the ministers will do when they learn of this.”

  With a grunt to his horse, he shook the reins and the buggy rolled onto the road once again. Remy struggled to understand the contradictions, then decided to let it go. Sometimes it was best to let these things wash over you without picking at the details; she had learned that from many a discussion with Adam about living Amish.

  When he turned the buggy onto Main Street, toward home, Remy noticed the clog of tourist traffic around the more popular attractions like the tea shop, the Amish gift shop, and the ice-cream parlor, where more outdoor tables had been added to accommodate the summer crowds.

  As Thunder trotted along, the patrons outside the ice-cream shop caught Remy’s attention. There were a few groups of Amish, some younger boys on their scooters. But her gaze stuck on one Amish girl in a dark green dress. She sat at a picnic table, laughing as she licked the sides of an ice-cream cone.

  Remy’s pulse quickened when she recognized Sadie.

  “There she is,” she said.

  “What?” Adam’s head turned toward the ice-cream parlor, where a line snaked through the parking lot. Quite a crowd, but even with all the tourists, it wasn’t hard to pick out their Sadie, sitting in the late afternoon sunshine and flirting with Mike Trueherz.

  “What on earth?” Adam slowed the horse and directed it into the busy parking lot. His fury was palpable, and though Remy knew he would never resort to violence, she worried that this could blow up into something they would all regret.

  But there was no stopping Adam from jumping out of the buggy, no slowing down the perpetual motion of events unfolding so quickly.

  Adam stormed over to the tables.

  And Sadie looked up from her ice-cream cone, a laugh cut off as she spotted her older brother. All joy drained from her face at the sight of him.

  And Mike rose to his feet, as if to protect Sadie.

  Adam paused a few feet from Sadie, and when he spoke his voice was so low Remy had to step closer to hear. “Get in the buggy.”

  Sadie blinked. “What’s wrong?” She rose, looking to Mike in concern, then over at the buggy. “Has something happened?”

  “Get in the buggy. Now.”

  She held up her cone, which had begun to drip down one side. “I was just having ice cream with Mike. I already talked to Frank, and I’m finished with the band, so—”

  “Finished with your job at the hotel, too,” Adam said quietly. “You’ve been lying to us all along, Sadie. So many lies, I don’t know if you have any true words left in you.”

  “The hotel …” Sadie looked wounded as she pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m sorry, but I can explain—”

  “Enough. Just get in the buggy now.” Adam turned to face Mike. He locked eyes with the young man, the dark bitterness in Adam’s expression a warning. Then he turned and strode back to the open carriage.

  Sadie dropped her cone into the trash and pressed a fist to her forehead. “My scooter … it’s in the bakery truck.…”

  “I’ll get it,” Mike said.

  In the tense silence, Remy felt the curious stares of customers waiting in line for ice cream. Did Adam seem cruel to them? She knew he was only doing what the patriarch of an Amish family had to do.

  Sadie turned a pleading face to Remy. “What can I do?” she whispered desperately.

  “Just … come. We have to go.” Remy motioned her toward the buggy.

  Sadie bi
t her lips together, trying to hold back emotion as she reached for the scooter. Mike squeezed her hand, and despite the absence of words, Remy saw the message that passed between them.

  A message of love.

  Sniffing back tears, Sadie straightened. Then with quivering dignity, she walked to the buggy.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  The ride home was miserable.

  Slung low in the backseat of the small buggy, Sadie struggled to breathe with all the fear, guilt, and anger pressing down upon her. The weight of all those bad feelings threatened to crush her, and she had to force herself to take small, shaky breaths, one after the other.

  Shame washed over her as she thought about facing Adam once they arrived at home. He would certainly be giving her a scolding now, if she could have heard him in the backseat of the open carriage.

  Adam thought she was a liar.

  That cut her to the quick, but there was some truth there. She had hidden getting fired from the hotel. So every time she left the farm, pretending to go to work, she’d been living a lie.

  But that was her only sin, wasn’t it? It wasn’t a sin against God to use her voice. To sing with the band. To make friends outside the Amish community.

  To fall in love with an Englisher.

  She covered her eyes with her hands, feeling so sorry that Adam had found her with Mike. Now Adam thought Mike was just another part of the worldly things Sadie had become involved with. Adam would surely add Mike to the list of things that would be forbidden.

  Once they arrived at the farm Adam wasted no time in getting to the heart of the matter. He handed Remy the reins and turned around so that he was facing Sadie, one knee on the seat.

  “You’ve pushed too far this time, Sadie.” His face wasn’t so red anymore, but his anger hadn’t faded. “The bishop and Preacher Dave scolded you once, and yet I find you lying to your family and going off to meet an Englisher.”

  “Please, don’t bring Mike into it. It’s not his fault.”

  He tipped his hat back to wipe his brow. “He’s not to be your friend now. The son of the doctor is still an Aussenseiter, an outsider. It’s time you learn to stick with your own.”

  Stick with her own? And how about the woman sitting right beside you? Sadie wanted to ask. Remy had been an Englisher. Sadie loved her, and she was joining the Gemeinde. But it angered Sadie that he could say such a thing. How could he condemn outsiders when he himself was going to marry one?

  He held his hand out, palm up. “Give me your phone.”

  The whoosh of her own heartbeat filled her ears as she handed it over. This couldn’t be happening.

  “Is that my punishment?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure yet.” He closed his fist tightly over the silver phone. “I might have to tell Bishop Samuel about this. Until I decide, you are not to leave the farm, except for church and the singing on Sunday. And you will go to the singing. I know you like the music, and it’s time you started spending time with young people from the community.” He frowned, adding, “You wouldn’t be having these problems if you were courting an Amish boy.”

  “This isn’t about courtship,” Sadie said, trying to keep the raging heat out of her voice. “I’m looking for something that I can’t find here, Adam.”

  I need to let my light shine.

  I have to find a way to share my gift.

  She wanted to explain that she was trying to do good things, all for the glory of God, but the hard set of his jaw told her not to speak now.

  “If you can’t find it here, you’re looking for the wrong thing.” Adam said, eyeing her sternly. “For tonight, you are to take your supper separate from the family.”

  She stared at him, her fury mounting. He was treating her like someone who’d been shunned by the community!

  Remy climbed out of the buggy, but Sadie remained in the back, arms crossed, as Adam jumped down and started unhitching the horse.

  Ooh, she had half a mind to grab the reins and hightail it out of here, running Thunder at full speed until he worked up a good lather. If Adam was going to treat her like a person under the ban, she figured she might as well do something worthy of such punishment.

  The reins were wrapped around the stub, tempting her, but she took a deep breath and climbed to the ground. It was best not to act in anger. Mamm had always said that cooler heads prevailed. She needed to think this out once the fire in her belly stopped roaring. Though right now, she was sure the embers would burn for a long time to come.

  Although Sadie was banned from the dinner table she wasn’t off the hook with chores, and she set to work chopping vegetables, scouring the big pots that had been used to cook up the strawberry jam, and weeding the garden. Work usually helped clear her mind and ease her heart, but not today. Her burdens pressed down on her, like dark clouds gathering overhead.

  Tears stung her eyes. She was not even worthy to sit at the family table tonight. At least, that was what Adam thought of her, making her take her supper separate from the family, like a person under the ban.

  How had this happened? She had been trying to follow her heart, trying to follow God’s word, but Adam and the ministers were sure she was going down a dark path.

  And now she was an outcast in her own home.

  Squatting in the garden, she struggled with a stubborn weed. When it wouldn’t give, she took a spade and stabbed at the soil, stabbed over and over again. Though the stem went slack, the roots clung to the dirt.

  The dark centers of two bachelor button flowers burned dark, reminding her of Adam’s eyes. How he’d glared at her when he found her with Mike! Her older brother would never trust her again, and that was partly her fault. Oh … the lie about her job at the hotel had gotten out of hand. That’s what lies did; they grew deep roots like that weed. Roots that burrowed deep and twisted around the healthy plants in the garden.

  Her lie had begun to choke the goodness in her life, like a weed.

  “Sadie?” The voice penetrated her frenzy. She looked up to Ruthie’s curious face.

  “I didn’t think that was you. It’s so quiet in here. Why aren’t you singing?”

  Sadie didn’t have a song left in her right now. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you sick?” Ruthie asked. “Mary told me not to set a place for you at the table.”

  So Adam had told Mary. Sadie swiped a sleeve across her damp cheek.

  “Truth is, I’m not feeling well at all.”

  “Then you’d better get out of the garden.” Ruthie came over and tugged on her arm. “This can all wait till tomorrow.” She spoke with gentle authority, reminding Sadie of their mamm.

  Sadie stood up. “You’re right. I need to go inside.”

  And hide.

  “Take a little rest and you’ll feel better,” Ruthie said.

  Sadie nodded, but before she turned away she noticed that stubborn weed still holding on to the earth, just as misery was clutching her life.

  Passing through the kitchen, she kept silent, her head down.

  “I’ve set aside a plate for you,” Mary called after her. “Do you want to eat now?”

  “Denki, but I’m not really hungry,” Sadie said. “I’m going upstairs for a bit.”

  The afternoon heat still lingered in the quiet of the girls’ bedroom. Sadie turned in a circle at the center of the room, wanting to store it in her memory. The deep pink of the walls. The crisp white curtains she had washed herself last laundry day. The six little beds, lined up three on a wall … this room had seen her through sweet dreams and nightmares, sadness and warm comfort on winter nights. So cozy with her sisters. “Like peas in a pod,” Mamm used to say.

  She stumbled to her own bed and fell to her knees. “Oh, dear God, how can I do this? I can’t stay here. If I share the music in my heart, I’ll be an outsider in my own family.” She pressed her face into the familiar bedding and sobbed into the quilt.

  Minutes passed, and fresh tears welled in her eyes, but after a time she quieted to
listen in on the voices from downstairs in the kitchen. Supper was on the table, and though she couldn’t make out their words, the hum of conversation stirred and combined until it rose up to her like a family song.

  The low rumble of Jonah’s voice …

  The higher pitch of Simon telling a story.

  Mary’s steady tone, always reminding.

  And Ruthie’s chirping lilt, so positive, like a song that ended on a high note.

  “I love you all,” she whispered, sniffing. “But I can’t stay here.”

  If she stayed here and tried to share the light inside her, she would be forever scorned.

  No, she had to go, though it hurt her so.

  She dried her tears and reached under the mattress of her bed. The roll of dollars was there—money she had earned working at the hotel. It would have to be enough for now. With the voices of her family tugging at her heart, she started collecting her things on the bed. Her underthings, toothbrush, tweezers, jeans, and the two extra T-shirts she owned. Carefully she folded the dress from Remy and the fancy black shoes. The red book of poems from Katherine. She gathered them into a sheet and stashed them under her bed, far back so that no one would see.

  The letter was more difficult than packing her things. Her bottom lip curled in a pucker when she thought of Ruthie and Simon. She would miss them so.

  She tucked the letter under her makeshift satchel and lay upon her bed one last time.

  She awoke before dawn and dressed quickly. None of the other girls stirred as she made her bed and placed the note on the quilt. Pressing a fist to her mouth, she let her eyes skim over their sleeping forms. Her good sisters. She didn’t want to think of how much she’d miss them as she crept out of the house.

  The sky was the rich sapphire of coming dawn. The shed door squeaked as she opened it, but she didn’t think anyone would notice with the constant mewing of cows and the grumping of the bullfrogs by the pond. She wheeled her scooter out and nearly knocked into Simon.