Authors: Annette Blair
“I will not be her father when she is brought before me, I will be the church leader. And it is part her sin to bear; it took the two of you, unless you forced—”
“He did not!” Rachel said, face white. “And believe me, I know the difference.”
Bishop Zook raised his hands in a gesture of defeat and mumbled a German prayer for mercy, but Jacob wasn’t sure for which of them he sought it. With an offhand peck on his daughter’s cheek, and a nod to Levi, the defeated church leader left.
He came to the Sauder house daily after that, to sit with Rachel and to play with Anna and Mary. But to him, the Bishop did not speak, and Jacob understood.
The night before the hearing, Rachel wept in her father’s arms before he left. And she watched out the window until well after his buggy disappeared from sight.
Jacob’s heart broke for what he had brought her to, his guilt like a canker inside him.
“That will be the last time he ever holds me,” Rachel said, still watching the horizon. “After tomorrow, if he comes to see the girls, he will not look at me, nor take meals with me.” She swallowed audibly. “I will not be allowed to sit by his deathbed or to hold his hand and send him to Mom.” She turned from the window, her eyes full. “To my own father, I will be as one dead.”
Jacob stood a distance away, a rigid control keeping him from going to her.
“Being banned must be like having your soul leave your body,” she said, almost too softly for him to hear, “but still, you are unable to die.”
And that broke him. Jacob swept her into his arms and carried her to a rocker in the best room where he held her on his lap, soothing her with kisses and whispered words to her ear, not caring who might come upon them. “I will be sorry my whole life, that I have brought you to this,” he said.
Rachel sat back. “‘Twas not you alone. Even Pop knows that.”
“’Twas my doubting our love; my leaving started it.”
“And my marrying Simon.”
“He could appear so sincere. That’s why we both believed him four years ago, and again at Christmas. He seemed a good brother and a good husband, until our girls were born.”
Rachel smiled. “They are miracles, despite—”
Jacob touched her lips. “They were conceived in love … a strong and abiding love. Never forget it.”
Rachel bit her lip and nodded. “You rescued me when I needed saving.”
“And made love to you when it was not my right.”
“And gave me Anna and Mary. I am not sorry.”
“Neither I.” He kissed her and she welcomed him. “Rachel, let me hold you through this night. It will be so long, endless, for not knowing what tomorrow will bring.”
Jacob knew that this would be their last night together, even if Rachel did not, that holding each other would have to satisfy them both for the rest of their lives.
She stood and took his hand, her love humbling him.
At the door to her room, he removed her kapp and freed her hair into his hands before she went inside to change and wait for him.
Rachel’s need for Jacob made her heart race. She wanted his arms around her, his body near hers in her bed … and not just for tonight.
As far back as she could remember, Jacob had been there for her. At four, when she skinned her knee climbing where they should not, Jacob tended it. At six, when she drew a silly picture, Jacob admired it. At ten, when she baked a cake with salt instead of sugar, Jacob ate it. And at sixteen, when she wanted her first kiss, Jacob gave it.
Jacob, her husband, married or not.
Knowing they would face the most difficult time of their lives together, held her panic away. Together they would be shunned, or together they would be forgiven — Please, let them be forgiven. But no matter what was in store for them, together they would remain … forevermore.
Jacob came in wearing a nightshirt and Rachel giggled. “I have never seen you in your nightshirt before. You still have skinny legs and knobby knees, Jacob.” And she had never loved him so much.
“And your nightgown hides too much,” he returned with a wink.
Suddenly shy, they stood facing each other from either side of her bed. Whatever happened tomorrow, Rachel knew they would marry. Tonight was a beginning, not an end, and in each other’s arms, they would wait for dawn and the beginning of the rest of their lives.
From either side of the bed, they slipped under her quilt to meet in the center.
Nothing felt so good as the length of Jacob against her, his beard against her face, his heart beneath her hand.
“I could hold you like this forever,” he whispered. “Your very presence fills my soul with peace.”
But before long, Rachel wanted more than to be held, and she smiled and sighed when, as if reading her thoughts, Jacob began to touch her, his hands skimming her body in so familiar, yet so unique, a way, soothing every crest and hollow.
Rachel wanted to do the same, and more. But not here with four babies sleeping nearby — Emma and Aaron had moved in with her to be near Anna and Mary.
Throwing off the covers, Rachel rose and came around to Jacob’s side, offering her hand. “Come.”
Jacob followed her to his room, a quiet haven with no babies to disturb. He watched her light the lamp and shut the door. “I want to make love,” she said. “I want to feel you against and within me and I want to hear your love words and speak or shout my own, If I wish.”
Jacob groaned and pulled her into his arms, opening his mouth over hers like a man starved. This kissing with the mouth open was new to her, but wanting to learn, Rachel eagerly followed his lead.
And learn she did.
She learned of hard muscle against warm, wet lips and of shuddering pleasure. She learned to make her love cry with wanting, while at the same time he begged her to stop. She learned to make him feel more than he said he could — and for far longer — until he threatened to explode, and then she let him rest and made him ready again.
She acquired a taste for his flesh against her tongue.
And she let him do the same for her.
He described what he would do to her before he did it, and Rachel did not know which aroused more, words or touch.
She did know that together the two could be explosive.
Jacob Sauder became the master of her body and Rachel Sauder gloried in his mastery. When she thought she could climb no higher, feel no more whole, no more a part of him, he showed her she could.
Together they soared beyond the cares of the world, where only two people who loved with their souls could go.
Their night passed in a blaze of passion so intense, they fell into a sated sleep, only to be awakened by loud demands for midnight feedings.
Jacob chuckled when he entered Rachel’s room behind her, because Aaron and Emma sat in the babies’ crib, each four-year-old holding and bouncing a four-month-old.
“Annamary hungry,” Emma said.
Aaron nodded. “Squeaky too. Me too.”
Jacob took the older two downstairs for a glass of milk while Rachel nursed the girls. When their children slept again, Jacob and Rachel stood by the cribs watching them.
“What will become of them?” Rachel whispered.
“They will be so loved, they will grow up happy.”
“Love is no assurance of happiness.”
“It can never hurt.”
They lay in her bed like two spoons, watching their sleeping children until slumber took them too.
But morning and stark reality slipped upon them unaware and only the memory of their night together kept Rachel beyond fear and anguish … but not far enough beyond it.
When they finished breakfast, Esther came to watch the children while Rachel and Jacob went to meeting. “I will never stop speaking to you,” Es said airily as she poured herself a glass of milk.
“Then Pop will have to excommunicate you too.”
Esther lowered the glass and tilted her head. “What would happen, Rachel, do you think, if everyone decided they would not shun you and we all kept speaking to you? Then Pop would have to ban everyone, and no one would have anyone to talk to. Some families would need fifteen tables so no one would eat at the same table with anyone else!”
Rachel’s smile came despite her fear. “Leave it to you, Es.”
“If that happened ...” Esther grinned. “Pop would have to remove everyone’s ban, yours too, and everything would be back to normal.”
Rachel shook her head. “Have you told Pop your theory?”
“I’m saving it for later, after I know what happens. Like in a war? They save the big guns for when they have no other choice?”
“What do you know of war, Esther Zook?”
“I have been reading Ruben’s heathen books.”
“What heathen books?”
Esther’s eyes widened and she lowered her voice to a whisper of conspiracy. “History books.”
Rachel kissed her sister’s cheek and hugged her. “I think living with Ruben is beginning to pickle your brain.”
Es finished her milk and smiled softly. “It’s probably little Ruben here,” she said, patting her flat stomach.
Rachel went for a bigger hug. “Oh, Es. Does Ruben know?”
Eyes wide with warning, Esther shook her head. “Lord, no. I don’t want to scare him too soon.”
“I’m so happy for you, Es.” But sadness enveloped Rachel and her smile faltered. “I want to hold your baby in my arms, Es. I don’t want to be the aunt he will grow up never knowing because she isn’t spoken of.”
“You won’t be, Rache. We won’t let that happen. No matter what.”
As Levi drove Rachel to meeting, it was Esther’s ‘no matter what’ that frightened Rachel most. “It’s foolish, Levi, that Jacob has to go in a separate buggy. What do people think we can do in a buggy on the way to meeting, already?”
“Hush,
Leibchen
. Talk like that will not go well for you.”
She sighed. “I know, Levi.”
When they got to meeting, Annie Yoder silently led Rachel to an upstairs bedroom and shut her inside like a naughty child. For hours, she paced, not knowing what transpired, or how Jacob fared.
Minute by slow minute, Rachel died a little more.
* * * *
Jacob looked for Rachel as Saul Yoder led him in. She wasn’t there and panic almost brought him to his knees. Had she already had her turn and left? Or did she wait still in one of the rooms upstairs?
He needed to know. Then he caught Ruben’s eye. He’d told him this morning how much he wanted to be first.
Ruben pointed at him and held up one finger. Jacob sighed in relief and Ruben smiled, nodding.
Jacob had what he wanted. They would hear him first. Now, he could make a difference. He knew he could.
As Jacob expected, the Bishop’s obvious anger toward him infused many who watched. He understood the Bishop more than the he might imagine, at least he hoped he did. A father first, was Ezra Zook.
If Anna, Mary or Emma — Lord and if they were ever in this position, would he even be there?
What would become of them?
The Bishop Stood. “Jacob Sauder did you lead another into adultery with full knowledge of your sin, while knowing yourself to be the only one capable of right thinking in an emotional situation?”
He wouldn’t miss any beehives with that slingshot, Jacob thought. “I did. Exactly as you said. Let the sin be mine.”
If he could make them understand he deserved all the blame, it would go easier for Rachel later. He’d already lived apart and survived, but he knew living under the ban, apart from her family, her community, would destroy Rachel in slow measure.
“Jacob Sauder do you know any reason why you should not be banned from this congregation?”
“None. I was aware of the danger, but continued. I sinned with full knowledge of my actions.”
“Are you sorry you led another into adultery.”
“I am sorry my actions resulted in my brother’s needless death, and in Rachel being called here today.”
“Did you feel any compulsion to … protect or defend Rachel, which might have given you occasion for the sin to be committed?”
Jacob had not expected the Bishop to offer him an opportunity to shift some of the blame to Simon, but he would not take it. He could never destroy Aaron’s respect and love for his Unkabear. “I felt no such compulsion.”
“Have you any other sorrow?”
“I am more sorry than you will ever know that my actions have hurt Rachel and put her in jeopardy of losing the support of her community. I love Rachel Sauder. I always have and I always will. Am I sorry I love her? No. Am I sorry that because of our love, we have two daughters? No, I am not. But I tell you, Bishop Zook, and all of you, Rachel was like a wounded fawn when I set out to comfort her. ‘Twas I who betrayed her trust.
“You forced her?”
“Trust from the heart needs no force.”
“What would be your wish were you granted one?”
“My greatest wish would be that forgiveness be granted Rachel and me, that we be allowed to marry and remain here as a part of this community.”
“You expect to be rewarded for your sin?”
“No.”
“If you expect no reward, give me your next choice.”
Jacob looked sharply at the Bishop, understanding his offer. “I ask that Rachel Sauder be forgiven and allowed to live in harmony and union with all.”
The Bishop gave no indication by word or action, not even by the blink of an eye, that a bargain between them had been struck. “Jacob Sauder, for your sin you are excommunicated from this congregation. Go out from among us for all time.”
It was a blow. He’d seen it coming, and still it was a blow. His limbs shook. His soul cried.
Holding his head high, Jacob walked from among his people for the last time.
As he climbed into his buggy, he knew that if the Bishop did not keep his end of their silent pact, he would lose all respect for the man. If he kept it, however, it would be good to know that a father’s love can even soften a stern Bishop’s heart.
“Yup, Caliope. Take me home,” Jacob told the fidgety horse, his voice cracking. Home. Did he have one still? Could he be so selfish?