The Brethren
Authors: Beverly Lewis
The Brethren
Beverly Lewis
BethanyHouse
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA
1 The Brethren Copyright Š2006 Beverly Lewis
Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Koechel Peterson & Associates
Unless otherwise identified, Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
The Scripture quotation in chapter I$ is from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSIONŽ. Copyright ŠI3, , I984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owners.
Published by Bethany House Publishers
II400 Hampshire Avenue South Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.
Printed in the United States of America
Paperback: ISBN-I3: 8-0-7642-0I.07-3 ISBN-I0: 0-7642-0I07-7
Hardcover: ISBN-I3: 8-0-7642-023I-5 ISBN-I0: 0-7642-023I-6
Large Print: ISBN-I3: 8-0-7642-0232-2 ISBN-I0: 0-7642-0232-4
Audio CD: ISBN-I3: 8-0-7642-0233-9 ISBN-I0: 0-7642-0233-2
Library of Congress Cataloging’ in-Publication Data
Lewis, Beverly.
The brethren
Beverly Lewis, proposals. cm. (Annie’s people ; 3)p>
ISBN 0-7642-023I-6 (hardcover : all. paper) ISBN O-7642-OIO7-7 (pbk.) ISBN 0-7642-0232-4 (large-print pbk.)
I. Children of clergy Fiction. 2. Women artists Fiction. 3. Amish Fiction. I. Title.
PS3562.E9383B74 2006
2 dedication
To
Roz & Sandra Flower
and
Tom & Elizabeth Quayle and their darling families . .
cousins all.
3
Abram’s Daughters The Covenant The Betrayal The Sacrifice The Prodigal The Revelation
The Heritage of Lancaster County
The Shunning
, The Confession
The Reckoning
Annie’s People
The Preacher’s Daughter
The Englisher
The Brethren
The Postcard The Crossroad
The Redemption of Sarah Cain
October Song Sanctuary
The Sunroom
The Beverly Lewis Amish Heritage Cookbook
with David Lewis
4 BEVERLY LEWIS, born in the heart of Pennsylvania Dutch country, fondly recalls her growing-up years. A keen interest in her mother’s Plain family heritage has led Beverly to set many of her popular stories in Lancaster County.
A former schoolteacher and accomplished pianist, Beverly is a member of the National League of American Pen Women (the Pikes Peak branch). She is the 2003 recipient of the Distinguished Alumnus Award at Evangel University, Springfield, Missouri. Her blockbuster novels The Shunning, The Confession, The Reckoning, and The Covenant have each received the Gold Book Award. Her bestselling novel October Song won the Silver Seal in the Benjamin Franklin Awards, and The Postcard and Sanctuary (a collaboration with her husband, David) received Silver Angel Awards, as did her picture book for all ages, Annika’s Secret Wish. Beverly and her husband make their home in the Colorado foothills.
5 The gravity of the hour fell heavily on the membership that Lord’s Day long ago. One by one the men reached for a black songbook in the center of the table, for the drawing of the lot. In keeping with the sacred rite, only one man was to be found among the elect, Jehovah God’s choice. The husband of one wife, of good reputation, hospitable, not given to wine, the father of obedient children, with the ability to teach sound doctrine, according to the Scriptures. A God-fearing man whose name, along with six others, had been whispered to the bishop on this most holy day of Communion.
Seven hymnals, each bound by a rubber band, lined the table, and deep within one, a single slip of paper inscribed with the proverb: “The lot is cast into the lap; but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord.” The candidates selected from the church district by the “voice” of the People each chose a book, wondering who would be struck by the lot.
The bishop examined each hymnal Opening the one chosen by the final candidate, he found the lot and uttered the life-altering words: “The Lord God and heavenly Father has chosen our brother Daniel Hochstetler.”
6
If Isaac’s mamma were still alive and knew her son’s bones were being dredged up she would surely be weeping now. It was all I could do to choke back tears, walking past the People’s cemetery this morning. Our sacred knoll was blocked off with yellow police ribbon, and Englischers were swarming about like so many ants on a hill.
This must be why Esther hasn’t heard a peep from Zeke since he turned himself in a few days ago. Maybe he’s not allowed to talk to anyone while he awaits the outcome of what appears to be a mighty serious investigation. But I sure won’t be describing the commotion at the graveyard to Essie I’ll spare her that. I just hope the grapevine doesn’t spread its tendrils out to little ears, because like their mother, sixyear-old Laura and her younger brothers, Zach and John, have been through too much already. It was bad enough when Zeke was causing havoc at home, but this? Seems to me he must’ve gone completely berserk to say he killed his four-year-old brother all those years ago. And why? It makes not a whit of sense that Zeke and Isaac should be another Cain and Abel, and the brethren must surely think the same.
II
7
The People are all a-buzz about Zeke’s arrest, but I can’t allow myself to stew, ‘cause I need all my strength and courage to help dear Essie and her children, who are floundering so. Even though Essie is holding fast to her newfound faith, she also seems to be holding her breath about Zeke. We all are, really, because what one person may be found guilty of affects us all.
I am presently holding my breath, too, counting the days till my six-month promise ends. Then I can pick up where I left off with easel and paintbrush, even though my first responsibility is being a “mother’s helper” to my dear friend. So, for now, I keep myself busy redding up for Essie, along with the filthy chore of slopping Zeke’s hogs. It’s survival of the fittest most days, with the biggest pigs lining up first around the trough, the smallest ones constantly blocked by the fattest ones. A lesson in the demise of the confident, for it is the fattest that get slaughtered first.
In addition to that, I manage to put in two days each week at my Ranck cousins’, who have clearly upped their fervor for witnessing since Essie’s shunning from the People, and since I left home to stay with her. Irvin and Julia see me as another lost soul ripe for the picking, as does Essie. No doubt about that.
As for Ben Martin, someone came along and snatched up the job at the harness shop, freeing Ben to leave for his home in Kentucky, according to Julia. She says her husband, Irvin, plans to keep in touch with him.
Despite Ben’s departure, my life has not returned to normal. Truth be known, thoughts about Ben often keep me awake at night. Daydreams distract me, too. Images I tend
8 The Brethren
to will into existence by my forbidden yearnings, intermixed as they are with my sadness at having sent Ben away. Still, I try to remember what the Good Book says, Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted
9 Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God’s elect?
It is God that justified
Romans 8:33
10
A meditative haze parted and soon began to dissipate as a May sunrise spilled onto dogwood blossoms white, pale, and deep pinks. An early morning rain had dimpled the dirt on the shoulder of Frogtown Road, populated now with pecking wrens and robins.
At the reins in the Hochstetler buggy, Annie Zook breathed in the tranquility, aware of plentiful insects and thick green grass, fresh paint on fences and a new martin birdhouse at Lapps’ dairy farm. Clicking her tongue to speed the pace, she leaned forward in the seat, grateful for Zeke’s fast horse, as it was a good long walk between Essie’s house and Daed’s.
Only four days had come and gone since she had impulsively packed up her belongings and gone to Esther Hochstetler’s, so Annie was surprised to experience a sudden twinge as she made the turn toward her father’s house. Am I homesick already?
She wondered if Yonie, her nineteen-year-old brother, would be at home when she arrived. I miss the rascal, she thought.
11 Taking in the vibrant springtime colors, she longed more than ever to immerse herself in art once again.
want to paint my beau. But Ben was no longer that, and their breakup was all her doing. Hers … and Daed’s.p>
never should’ve written that good-bye letter, she thought. Yet she had done so to obey her father.
Her separation from Ben was cause for ongoing sorrow. Thankfully, Esther wasn’t one to ask questions, even when tears sprang unexpectedly to Annie’s eyes. She had come awful close to blurting out her beloved’s name upon awakening one morning, only to grit her teeth, forcing down the aching lump in her throat. Speaking his name, even in the private space of her room away from home, would not have hurt a thing. But she never knew what little ones might be roaming the hallway, and she didn’t trust herself to even breathe his name lest she be overtaken with grief. Or was it pure foolishness?
There had been plenty of times in the last few days when she had tried to think of some way to return to the lovely, secret world she and Ben had so happily shared till Daed had caught her riding in Ben’s car, wearing her hair down. Exactly which of those transgressions was worse, according to God and the brethren, she didn’t know. She had almost asked Cousin Julia for Ben’s mailing address on more than one occasion. And even more shameless, she had been tempted to get on a bus, show up at his doorstep, and beg his forgiveness.
I’d be out of my mind to do such a thing… .
Yet she was beside herself at the thought of living without him.
12
Annie saw a horse and buggy approaching, coming fast. She strained to see who it might be out so early. When she recognized Jesse Jr.’s wife her eldest sister-in-law she wondered how Sarah Mae might act toward her. Still, Annie was eager for any contact with family.
Surprisingly, Sarah Mae offered a warm smile and a wave. “Pull over and stop awhile!” she called out.
Annie was ever so pleased. She leaped from the buggy and tied Zeke’s horse to a tree trunk before plump Sarah could even begin to get herself down from her carriage. Annie ran like a girl who had not seen hide nor hair of her kin in the longest time. “Ach, Sarah Mae, ‘tis such a nice surprise to see you!”
“And you, too,” Sarah Mae said, still holding the reins. “I’ve been meaning to stop by.”
“Over at Essie’s, ya mean?”
Sarah Mae was slow to nod. “Well, maybe so … but “
“I know it’s terribly awkward,” Annie interrupted, “but do come sometime. I know Esther would enjoy the company, just as I would.”
Sarah Mae bowed her head for a moment, then raised her pretty blue eyes. “Jesse Jr. could scarcely believe it,” she confided, telling how the People had been talking up a storm about Annie’s winning the first place award for her covered bridge painting. “Downright surprising, ‘tis.”
“Jah, I ‘spect so.” Annie didn’t know quite how she felt about this, folks discussing amongst themselves her secret sin. Well, secret till now, anyhow. Sarah Mae must think I’m brazen … and I guess I was.
Had Jesse and Sarah Mae seen her painting featured on
13 the cover of the Farm and Home Journal or merely heard about it through the grapevine.7 She didn’t ask, wouldn’t seek out praise or criticism. She had known it was only a matter of time till word got around. So now there were two names floating about Zeke’s and Annie’s. One a confessed murderer and the other an artist born into the wrong church district or into the wrong family. …
Sarah Mae’s expression was questioning, though she spoke not the words Annie might have expected. “I hope you won’t be gone from home for too much longer,” she said softly.
“Mamm misses me, no doubt.” There was that lump in her throat again.
“Not only Mamm …” Sarah Mae didn’t need to say more.
Annie knew. She, too, disliked the discord between her father and herself. But could she make amends? He was more than put out with her, and no wonder. She had been too hasty in leaving, thinking only of herself. Yet being with Essie and the children was a blessing in disguise, a way to escape her father’s rigid expectations.
“I think it best that I stay put for the time being’,” she said, leaning into the carriage. “Especially since Essie needs me.”
Sarah Mae sighed heavily, her bosom rising and falling as if she were having difficulty catching her breath. “I’m sure you’ve heard all ‘bout Zeke, then?”
“Some, but Essie doesn’t know much yet. What does Daed say?”
- Sarah Mae hesitated. “Only that they’re holding Zeke
14
H as
until they can figure out if the bones are really Isaac’s. Though how on earth they’d do that, I’ll never know.”
Little Isaac’s dead… . The hard, sad knowledge slapped at Annie’s brain every time she heard it.
“Daed’s talkin’ of sending a letter to Zeke’s father … to let him know officially of Isaac’s death.” There was a little catch in Sarah Mae’s voice, and she placed her hand over her mouth.
“I feel sorry for Daed,” Annie said, “havin’ to break such sorrowful news.”
Sarah Mae shook her head. “I can’t imagine it. But Daed already got his address up in Canada from their cousin Nate, I guess.”
Annie shivered. “I daresay Daed should wait till Zeke’s father gets over the death of his wife. Seems only right …”
“But who’s to know if that will ever be.”
“I s’pose,” Annie said. “Honestly, can a man be expected to suffer his wife’s death and his son’s all in the space of a few weeks? Ain’t like Daed to jump ahead like this.”
“Oh, your father’s not the one insisting on gettin’ in touch with Isaac’s father. This comes down from higher up … if you understand my meaning.”
Annie’s gaze caught Sarah Mae’s. “This is the bishop’s word, then?”
Sarah Mae’s hand trembled. “I would not want my husband or any man I know to be in Daniel Hochstetler’s shoes. But the brethren know best.”
“I ‘spect you’re right.”
“No, Annie, you know I’m right.”
Annie stepped back, her anger rising suddenly at the
15 mention of the brethren. “Actually, I don’t know and that’s the honest truth. Some days I can’t decide whether to cling to what I was always taught or to reach for something altogether new.” She paused, recalling recent talks with Esther. “Something that makes wonderfulgood sense but stirs up ever so much trouble. Ever think thataway?”
A slow frown passed over Sarah Mae’s face. “Can’t say I ever have, nee no.”
Annie felt an urgent need to step back, and she did just that, waving good-bye.
“Aw, don’t go away mad.”
“Oh, I’m long past that,” Annie said over her shoulder, returning to Essie’s horse and buggy … sorry she’d ever opened her mouth.
When Annie arrived at her parents’ house she knew, even before detecting the pleading look in her mother’s eyes, that she was upset. Mamm had pressed her hand against her cheek upon first seeing Annie at the back door, although Annie hadn’t bothered to knock. She’d gone right in, like she always had when living here.
The two of them sat at the table, drinking freshly squeezed orange juice. Mamm’s soft blue eyes were somber, even intense. “Ach, Annie, ‘tis gut seem’ you again.”
“Oh, you, too, Mamm.” Annie mentioned having seen Sarah Mae out on the road on her way over.
“Jah, she stopped by on her way to market,” Mamm replied, staring at Annie still.
“Seems she’s mighty worried ‘bout Zeke. Which is why I’m here. I just felt I might burst if I didn’t talk to you.”
16
“Such a shame for all the People,” Mamm said. “Right startling, too, I daresay.”
“Yet how can such a thing be true?” Annie paused, wishing now she could right her own wrongs leaving home so impulsively for one.
“Just why would Zeke lie ‘bout something so awful?” Mamm said. “It makes not a bit of sense that he would tell
such a story one that’s near impossible to believe. Unless he’s … not quite right… in his mind.”
“Even so, if he says he killed Isaac, then who are we to say he didn’t?”
Mamm nodded slowly. “Jah, ‘tis best not to judge.”
Annie turned in her chair, wishing to lessen the distress in her mother’s gaze. “For the longest time, I assumed Isaac was alive somewhere. Didn’t you?” She looked at Mamm, whose eyes were now downcast.
“It’s the most difficult thing, to think of your child as gone forever.” Mamm blinked back tears. “In a way Mary Hochstetler’s recent passing was a godsend. She went to her grave unaware of the fact of Isaac’s death, though thinking him kidnapped must’ve eaten her up inside.”
“And she must have supposed, even known deep within, that her little Isaac had passed over, jah?” Seeing such grief imprinted on dear Mamm’s face, Annie swallowed back her own tears, not wanting to add to her mother’s sorrow.
“It is one thing, though, to lose a child that way … and quite another to lose one to her own stubborn will.” The words cut Annie to the quick.
“Oh, Mamm. I never left here out of spite. Surely you know that.”
17
Her mother’s reply was slow and soft. “Even so …” Annie rose and went to stand at the window overlooking the backyard and the two-story barn’s lower entrance. “I ‘spect you want me to talk to Daed ‘bout it?” “Well, shouldn’t you?”
Something winged up within, like a bird about to soar. have no desire to say one word to him. “I’ve done too much damage already.”
“You’re his daughter, for goodness’ sake! Why not speak kindly to him … see what can be done?”
Annie turned slowly. “I don’t know if I can.” “Oh, Annie… . We miss you something awful.” Annie shook her head. “I can’t talk ‘bout this now, Mamm.” With that, she hurried out the back door, hoping to find Yonie, the one brother who had always understood her.
18 In his parents’ home in Kentucky, Ben Martin awoke early with an unnamed dread. In spite of it, he was determined to make a fresh start. Since returning home, he had not been able to shake his frustration at the way things had ended with Annie. He missed seeing her, talking to her, and spending time with her. He thought of her nearly constantly.
He also thought of her bridge painting, the one he’d stumbled upon in the Rancks’ attic prior to his leaving. As close as they had been, why had Annie kept her artistry a secret from him?
Getting out of bed, he reached for his robe and stepped to the window, staring out. Since discovering Annie’s painting, he often found himself imagining her at work … how she might look as she pressed colored pencils or brush to paper or canvas. Did she stand at her easel or sit on a stool? Where did she work at home or some secret location? And when would she ever have the time? Considering the great planning that would have gone into the painting of the covered bridge, he was baffled. With all the clamps put on Amish women, he was surprised such self-expression was
19
permitted or was it? Had she attempted to keep her work hidden from view, just as she had hidden him away, slipping out of her father’s house and going to their private rendezvous place?
He recalled her eagerness whenever she walked out to meet him at his car. His heart had always pounded at the sight of her, as well. Smiling at the fond memory, he pictured a studio, unknown to her father and the People, where Annie happily hummed while drawing and painting. A cottage in the woods, perhaps? Julia’s attic, where he’d seen the marvelous painting? And did she whisper to herself in Pennsylvania Dutch as she worked? There was much he wished to know about Annie even more so now that he was here and she, there.
He stared down at the street, glad for the stillness before the neighborhood grew noisy. There was no question in his mind that Paradise, Pennsylvania, was as peaceful as any place he had ever been. One of his dreams from the previous night floated into his conscious memory: he had dreamed he was again walking through the covered bridge over Pequea Creek. How long would it be until his subconscious comprehended he was no longer in Pennsylvania?
Ben shuffled to the bathroom. Picking up his electric shaver, he wondered, How would I look with a full beard? He stared at his reflection, noticing the unusual dullness of his eyes. Absentmindedly he began to shave, pondering the fact that he’d never known how to go about courting Annie Zook. At first, he figured he’d just wing it, hoping all would go well. And it certainly had, but only for a time.