A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel (2 page)

The good folks of Halfway, Amish and Englisher, had been more than generous with their
help during the Kings’ time of need. But the farm was running smoothly now, better
than ever with the new automatic milking equipment and the larger herd. Thanks to
Gott, the family no longer needed assistance. Jonah had been relieved when folks were
able to start greeting him without a veil of pity over their eyes.

And just when things seemed to settle back to an even pace, Remy McCallister, Adam’s
Englisher girl, had come along and turned everyone’s heads again. And then there was
sister Sadie, who was
hoch gange
—gone high. Over the summer she had left home to sing with a group of Englisher musicians.
He suspected tongues were still wagging over the King family.

Jonah didn’t like the extra attention. It was like a splinter stuck under the skin.
The skin healed over it, but the dull ache lingered. That was the problem now with
his family. So many folks saw the Kings as different from other Amish families, and
it wasn’t going to change anytime soon with Adam about to marry an Englisher girl,
an
Aussenseiter
. Ya, Remy was working hard to learn their ways, but good and kind though she was,
she was still Englisher inside.

As one of the other ministers spoke about the evils of gossip that came from judging
others, Jonah recited a silent prayer in his heart. Gott knew the Kings were a good,
obedient family that followed the Ordnung, the rules and regulations of their church
district. If only the people here could see that. “Help them see us with fair and
honest eyes.”

A
fter the service, Jonah pitched in with the other men to move the church benches from
the barn to the tables outside, where they would be used as seating for the light
lunch. The weather was holding, so the meal would be taken out in the sunshine.

“Right over there,” one of the older women instructed as Jonah and his brother Gabe
toted a long wooden bench. “Over by the beech trees. They’re in need of seating over
there.”

Jonah and Gabe followed her directions, clearing the crowd outside the barn and maneuvering
around the rows of parked carriages.

“Just put it over there in the state of Ohio,” Gabe said, making Jonah laugh as they
traipsed through the grass. Gabe had a cutting sense of humor that often remained
hidden.

“Not that far. Just carry it to Bird-in-Hand,” Jonah said, referring to a town a few
miles away in Lancaster County.

“If we’ve carried it this far, I think we could make it to the next town,” Gabe muttered.
Usually the tables were grouped in one spot,
but the layout of the Eichers’ yard didn’t allow that, especially with the many carriages
and buggies parked there today.

When Jonah saw Annie over at one of the tables with his sister Mary, his fingers nearly
lost their grip on the bench.

This would be a good chance to talk to her. Some smart comment … Something funny to
make her laugh. Annie’s laugh made everyone smile.

But what could he say? Talking with girls had never been his strength. He kept quiet,
and Annie didn’t pay any mind to Gabe and him.

“They’ve already started packing,” Annie said as she set each place with a knife,
cup, and saucer. Mary followed her down the table, pouring water into each cup. “They’ll
be staying in Lowville with Perry’s cousin till they get on their feet. It’s an Old
Order Amish group in upstate New York.”

“Annie, what will you do without your sister?” Mary asked sympathetically.

“And little Mark,” Annie added.

From his time spent doing repairs at the Stoltzfuses’ house, Jonah knew Annie was
attached to her nephews Mark and Levi. Mark was just a toddler, but Levi was around
brother Sam’s age—a time when small chores could be turned into play.

“It breaks my heart to see them packing up their little family,” Annie said.

Jonah kept his eyes on the bench as he drank in the conversation. So Perry and Sarah
Fisher were moving to New York. He’d heard some talk of Perry pursuing an opportunity
there, but wasn’t sure the young family would be willing to pick up and leave Halfway.

“I’m going to miss them so much.” Annie’s voice was laced with sadness. “But Sarah
says I should come join them after they’re settled.”

A chill curled up Jonah’s spine. Would Annie really think of leaving?

“Annie, no!” Mary gave voice to his concern. “Could you just up and leave us in the
blink of an eye?”

“It wouldn’t be all that soon, and …” Annie’s voice trailed off as she noticed Gabe
and Jonah nearby. “Anyway, let’s finish up here so we can help Lizbeth with the second
shift.”

Jonah lingered, listening. Annie couldn’t leave Halfway. She wouldn’t.

“Come on.” Gabe clapped a hand on his back. “The sooner these tables get set up, the
sooner we can eat. And the way I’m feeling, I could tuck away half the church spread.”

As he followed Gabe, Jonah turned back to steal a look at Annie, who had drawn close
to Mary for private words.

Jonah lifted his straw hat to rake his dark hair back. A few overheard words from
Annie and his heart had clouded over.

Was Annie really going to leave Halfway?

He was plodding back to the barn when he heard someone calling to him.

“Jonah? Jonah King. Come.”

He glanced up and saw two bearded men beckoning him from the porch. Uncle Nate stood
beside a squat man with black eyeglasses—Jacob Yoder.

Squaring his shoulders, Jonah tamped down his worries and climbed the porch steps.
“The sunshine is back,” he said, tipping his hat.

“After five days of rain, it’s good to know there’s still a sun to shine down on us,”
Nate said with a wry smile.

“But it got a little warm in the barn during the services.” Jacob’s brown eyes were
magnified by his glasses. “I noticed that young Simon was dozing off in there. Everything
okay? Is the boy sick?”

“A boy needs his sleep, and we know our Simon has his problems with that,” Uncle Nate
said. “Is he having the bad dreams again? I
remember when he was sleepwalking through the night. That was a terrible thing.”

“Night terrors,” Jacob said, wanting to set them straight. “That’s what Dr. Trueherz
says they’re called. But the doc thinks they were caused by trauma.”

And Simon had been through more than his share of pain. The only witness to their
parents’ murder, Simon had suffered deeply during those dark days. Some nights the
boy had paced the halls with a crazy look in his eyes and a panic in his heart.

But not anymore. Many things had been resolved when the police had arrested the man
who killed Levi and Esther King. And when the puzzle pieces had fallen into place,
Simon settled into an easier peace.

“I don’t think Simon has had a nightmare for a long time,” Jonah said, glancing over
at the paddock where Simon was tossing a football with other boys his age. “And the
night terrors ended in the winter.”

“Good! That’s good to hear.” Jacob nodded, his head bobbing on his broad shoulders.

“No more sleepwalking?” Uncle Nate asked.

“No more. I think he’s just tired today,” Jonah said. “Probably because he’s been
staying late in the stable with his horse.”

“I’m counting on you to make sure Simon gets the sleep he needs,” Nate told Jonah.
Their uncle did his best to look out for the family, Jonah knew that, but he felt
himself bristling over the warning. Simon was a good boy.

And Jonah didn’t notice anyone asking about why Eli Zook was pinching his brother
during the service.

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.

A
s 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.