Read The Miting Online

Authors: Dee Yoder

Tags: #Amish & Mennonite, #Fiction

The Miting (4 page)

BOOK: The Miting
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Through the window over the sink, Leah watched
Maem
walk to the shop and wondered what she would tell
Daet
about the conversation. They were both worried about Martha’s influence. Questions about Matthew Schrock could only bring more concern.

Leah lay on the colorful quilt covering Martha Mast’s bed, giggling with her friend over silly nonsense. Martha had pulled up in her buggy not long after
Maem
had gone out to
Daet.
Even though her parents had shared their concerns about Martha, Leah couldn’t resist the sunny smile and outgoing nature of her wayward friend.

When Leah had stepped to the wood shop door and called to her parents she was going along with Martha to her house for a visit,
Daet
had frowned and shaken his head but had not forbidden her to go. Instead he simply asked, “Is that wise, Leah?”

Pretending not to hear his question, Leah had waved and run to join Martha in the buggy.

Now they were in Martha’s bedroom under the eaves of the big old farmhouse that held all seven of Martha’s siblings, her
Maem
, and her stepfather.

“I heard Daniel’s getting married.” Martha absently smoothed the quilt between them, peering at Leah as if she could see the answer inside her head.

Leah smiled cautiously, not wanting to give away her
bruder
’s secret entirely, but also not wanting to discourage Martha’s desire to talk about it.

“Well, spill the beans! Is he, or isn’t he?” Martha tugged Leah’s
kapp.
“Tell me.”

“Yes, he is.”

“I knew it! Is it Sara Wengerd?”

Leah giggled. Even though members of her community didn’t reveal who a girl went home with from singing or admit to a romance that could lead to marriage, it wasn’t possible to keep these things secret indefinitely. “Let’s just say it’s someone who lives near our place and is very sweet.”

Martha hopped from the bed. “Yep. It’s Sara. There’s no one else in the
jungen
right now as pious or sweet as
her.

Martha’s hash emphasis surprised Leah. “But Martha, she
is
sweet. It’s not an act with Sara.”

Her friend pulled a stack of forbidden jeans from the back of her dresser drawer. “Forgive me if I gag. Anyone who laps up the rules the way that girl does sets my teeth on edge.” Her frown quickly changed to a mischievous grin as she threw a pair of jeans at Leah. “Try these on. I think they’ll fit you.”

Though she was curious about
Englisher
clothing, Leah hadn’t thought of actually trying it on. Her fear of what
Daet
would say if he caught her had kept her from even thinking of bringing a pair into the house. But this forbidden fruit was dangling deliciously close. She gave in to the temptation and jumped to her feet. As she yanked the pants up under her dress, Martha laughed.

“Silly! You won’t be able to tell how they look if you wear them that way. Take that ugly dress off and try them on the
right
way.”

Leah turned her back to her friend to drag the dress and apron up and over her sleeveless, navy blue slip.

Martha snorted. “You’re too modest, girlfriend.”

She tugged the unfamiliar jeans over her legs and struggled to fasten the metal button at the top, bunching the slip fabric into a ball in order to see what she was doing. The texture of the fabric as it pulled over her calves when she bent to pick up her dress and apron felt a little strange, though the freedom to stretch and bend and sit any way she liked was wonderful. Leah skipped back to the bed, chuckling as she fell onto the bouncy mattress.

Martha hopped onto the bed, too, settling herself against the headboard. She giggled at Leah’s uncharacteristic enthusiasm.

Suddenly, she stopped laughing as she shot a worried glance to the door.

Leah followed her gaze and observed the handle on the door slowly turning. When she looked back at Martha, her friend’s face was as white as the pillow coverings, and her playful smile vanished as she stared at the knob.

What in the world is wrong?
Leah watched as the knob continued to rotate slowly. The door creaked open. All at once, Martha’s older stepbrother, Abner, wedged his face between the door and frame. His thick black eyebrows rose when he saw Leah, but he said nothing to either of the girls.

Leah sucked in her breath when she caught sight of the leer on his face. She had never felt comfortable around Abner, ever since Martha’s mother and his widowed father had married several years back, each bringing their own children to the newly formed family. But
this
Abner … this was a side of him she’d never before seen.

Martha stared at her stepbrother, her eyes wide with alarm and apprehension. Then, like a deer exploding in motion to escape the hunter, she leapt from the bed, landing within a foot of where Abner’s face peered eerily in at them. She shoved the door, momentarily pinning his head against the wall. He yelped and grasped the edge of the door with both hands. In a second he had pulled his head free and grabbed at her wrists. Martha jerked from his grasp, slapping at Abner in a frenzy of rage.

“Not when she’s here! You go away! Not when she’s here, you don’t!”

“You
dumme kuh!
” Abner yelled, grasping both of her arms and pinning them behind her back. He shoved hard, propelling Martha onto the bed face down and pinning her with his knee. “Don’t you ever pull that again! I’ll come in this room anytime I want!” He let go of Martha, but not before yanking her over and giving her face a vicious slap. She covered her head and cried out in pain, her scream echoing through the stark room.

Abner turned his gaze on Leah, who cowered in a tight ball against the headboard. Her heart pounded so hard she could barely breathe.

He sneered, running a look over the shape of her legs in the tight jeans. “
Shenna bee,
” he motioned.

Leah covered her legs with both hands instinctively. His comment forced another shiver down her spine.

Abner turned and sauntered arrogantly to the door; his last glance at Martha hate filled and evil. “I’ll be back,” he said, his tone carrying unspoken threats as he left.

Martha struggled to her feet, ran to the door, and slammed it behind her stepbrother. One side of her face was already an ugly shade of red, and she turned her eyes away in shame before crawling into a corner and burying her face in her arms.

Leah trembled on the bed, afraid to say a word. Finally, she got up and carefully peeled off the jeans. She quickly pulled her dress and apron back on, and then sat uncertainly on the edge of Martha’s bed.

At last Martha looked up and began to wipe her nose and eyes with her apron, her face a tight mask of humiliation and wrath.

“Martha?” Leah whispered, unspoken questions swirling about the room.

Martha shook her head as she carefully pulled her hair back under her
kapp
, squared her shoulders, and averted her gaze.

Leah was amazed at her friend’s ability to hide what had happened so quickly, but she would not soon forget the look on Abner’s face, nor the terror his violence created. Though he didn’t touch her, imagining the kind of touch his eyes conveyed as he looked over her legs made her shiver anew.

And Martha—she glanced at her friend. How could she endure such treatment? How often did she have to put up with that from her stepbrother, and what else was he capable of doing to her?

Martha’s
maem
, Anna, stood at the bottom of the stairs, eyeing the girls warily as they descended. Her face wore a hard, spiteful look, and she turned to watch as the friends walked to the front door. Martha frowned but did not stop to talk with her. Leah’s heart pounded harder than ever at the strange expression on Anna’s face. It wasn’t right.
Or am I just overreacting from the fright Abner gave us?

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

L
eah clutched the reins tightly, the leather chaffing her palms as she held Sparky back from an all-out trot. She was going to town with Sara Wengerd, Daniel’s fiancée, to buy fabric for Sara’s wedding dress. Sunlight reflected off the tops of the few cars traveling this back road to Ashfield, and she worried over Sparky’s tendency to dance to the right as vehicles zoomed past. The ditch was dangerous, but pulling the horse to the left too far could cause a crash, as well. The road rolled and twisted, making driving unsafe since cars were liable to pop over a rise unexpectedly.

Leah licked her lips, launching into small talk to ease her nerves. “Sara, what color blue are you thinking of wearing?”

“Light blue looks best on me. Daniel likes that color, too. I hope we find something the
Ordnung
will allow.” Sara flushed and pressed her feet against the buggy floor. She fingered the edge of her cape uneasily. Conversation lapsed.

Sparky’s hooves kept time with the swaying buggy. He flicked his tail from side to side, shooing away flies that zeroed in on his haunches. Farmland dotted with corn, soybeans, and cows sloped gently away from the road. Boys and men tended to animals in barnyards and shoveled manure into wheelbarrows, which they then trundled off to add to compost heaps. The rural scents were common enough for Leah and Sara to ignore, and the beautiful scenery offered an enjoyable ride, if they didn’t have to watch traffic.

“How is the house coming along?” Leah tried again to stretch a chatty string between herself and Sara, but her future sister-in-law was shy and didn’t talk much.

Sara’s family had moved to the area only recently, so she hadn’t grown up with the Amish girls in her church. Daniel had spied the timid girl at her first singing. It hadn’t taken him long to ask if he could take her home, but she had kept him at a distance for weeks before finally saying yes.

Leah darted a glance at Sara, noticing the lowered chin and flushed cheeks. She was fair and redheaded, freckled and delicate in manner and appearance. Leah had a hard time imagining Sara tending a challenging farm alongside her husband, much less bearing children and handling a home, but she could understand Sara’s sweet nature attracting Daniel.

Sara swallowed and lifted her gaze to the road ahead. “Daniel’s making progress on it. He had some friends come and help him last week. They painted most of the rooms so the house is ready for our furniture now.”

Both girls lapsed into silence while Leah concentrated on a particularly dangerous curve and hill that hid their buggy from any traffic coming upon them. Sara shifted sideways to keep an eye out for fast-moving cars and trucks on the highway behind their buggy, her fingers clenched over the back of the seat. Leah realized her own knuckles were white and forced herself to relax her grasp on the reins.

Once they crested the rise and started down the other side, the remaining route into Ashfield was flat and straight.

Leah sighed in relief. There shouldn’t be as much danger now, as long as Sparky behaved himself and cars were careful of them. The locals were adept at watching for the black buggies, but visitors, distracted by phones or unfamiliar routes, sometimes overtook the slow-traveling vehicles and the results could be fatal. On occasion, even the Amish forgot to be cautious. One time, her uncle absentmindedly turned his horse and buggy left into the side of a passing minivan. Luckily, no one was hurt, but his horse suffered an injury that took time to heal. Sharing modern roads with
Englishers
was never an easy situation.

Sara’s continued silence brought a question to Leah’s mind: Could she have heard about Martha? Had the community gossip caused Daniel’s fiancée to wonder about Leah’s association with the rebellious teen?

It wouldn’t surprise her. Rumors flew through Amish communities quickly, and Leah had no doubt that Martha and Abe’s doings provided much fodder for gossip and innuendo. Martha might even be disciplined soon; most everyone had already given up on Abe.

At last the two young ladies reached their destination. The fabric store was busy when they entered. Amish and English women mingled together in the crowded store, their lively chatter creating a loud buzz of conversation. Sara and Leah meandered through the rows of fabric bolts until they found the calicoes and plain fabrics at the back of the shop.

Leah waited patiently while Sara searched through the variety of bolted blues, leaning one against the other while she fingered the heft and weight of the materials. She settled on a plain length of fine cotton in a robin’s egg hue.

“This is perfect. I love the feel of the fabric, too.”

Leah nodded. The weight of the woven cloth created a lovely drape. To be sure it fit with the
Ordnung
’s rule that the textile not be sheer, she stretched the blue fabric over her hand and held it to the light. “See? Nothing shows through. This ought to be okay.”

Sara waited for the fabric to be measured and cut, then gathered the tissue-wrapped bundle and followed Leah out the door.

“Do we have time to stop by the grocery?” Sara held the packaged fabric to her brow, sheltering her eyes from the harsh afternoon sun.

BOOK: The Miting
10.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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