A Simple Autumn: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel (3 page)

Annie’s jaw dropped open. Oh, no! That was Ira Miller and his wife, and the couple
was still in the bann!

Quick as a butterfly, Annie hurried over to the small table set off by the side of
the yard. Remy was heading over to the men’s table with the big bowl.

“You can’t do that,” Annie said breathlessly. She put her hands on the plastic bowl
and nudged it from Remy’s grip. “You can’t serve this to anyone else now that they’ve
dipped into it.”

Remy’s green eyes opened wide. “I don’t think anyone will really mind.” She lifted
the spoon from the bowl Annie was now holding and covered up the missing portions.
“See? No one will notice.”

“That doesn’t matter. It’s just not allowed.” Annie felt her face growing warm. She
didn’t want to make a big scene, but she couldn’t
let this bowl be passed around. “Don’t you know that Ira and Rose Miller are being
shunned?” she asked in a lowered voice.

“I saw them confess, but …” She glanced back at the table where the couple was eating
quietly. “The bishop let them attend church today. Isn’t the shunning over?”

“Not yet. There’s one more week. And while they’re being shunned, the rest of the
district can’t be eating food that’s been dipped in by them.”

Remy frowned. “It’s just a bowl of potato salad.…”

What would it take to make the girl understand? “It’s the rules when someone is in
the bann,” Annie said emphatically. “It’s always been this way.”

“Annie’s right.” Annie’s mother, Lovina, was suddenly at her side. “We must
meide
them. You see? That’s why they’re seated at their own table.”

“I didn’t realize that—” Remy’s face grew pale as the truth set in. “I didn’t think
they’d even be allowed here if they were shunned.”

“The rules of shunning can be complicated,” Lovina said.

“I’m so sorry.” Tears glistened in Remy’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to break any rules.”

For the first time, Annie felt a tug of sympathy for the girl. She couldn’t help it
if she was an outsider.

Lovina patted Remy’s shoulder. “This is just a pebble on the path. Now tell me, is
that the bowl?” When Annie nodded, her mother took it from her hands. “Don’t worry.
I’ll take care of this. We’ll give it to Ira and Rose to take home with them.” She
cocked her head as she eyed the bowl. “Though it is quite a lot of potato salad for
two people.”

Just as quickly as Mamm had popped up beside them, she disappeared around the side
of the house, and Annie found herself alone with this girl she barely knew. A girl
on the verge of tears.

Remy swiped at her eyes with the back of one hand, then pressed
a fist to her heart. “I feel just awful. What a stupid mistake! And it could have
been worse if you hadn’t stopped me.”

“You were only trying to help.” Annie’s words were sincere. She couldn’t bear to see
more tears from this young woman.

Remy pressed a hand to her pale cheeks. “I feel like a fool.”

“You didn’t know,” Annie said. So many things this girl didn’t yet know, and it wasn’t
her fault. In just a few months she was trying to learn everything Annie had been
taught since she was a little one. “No need to fret over it. And look, the first shift
is all done, and I’m hungry for a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. How about
you?”

Remy sniffed. “I am sort of hungry.”

“Let’s get some food.” Without a second of hesitation Annie put a hand on Remy’s shoulder
and led her over to the tables of sandwiches, salads, and desserts. Annie’s smile
felt as easy as the breeze combing the grass. When she and Remy sat down together
at a table, not a smidge of jealousy remained.

Soon after they sat down they were joined by Mary King and her younger sisters, teen
twins Leah and Susie, and wise little Ruthie.

“It’s wonderful good to be out here in the sunshine,” Susie said brightly. “On days
like this, I think summer might stay forever.”

“It’s a trick of nature,” Mary said. “One day it’s summer, the next day we’re huddling
by the stove before dawn.”

“I like the changing seasons,” Ruthie said. “I’m always looking forward to the next
one. It’s hard to pick a favorite.” She paused with a pickle halfway to her mouth.
“Remy? You’re white as a pastry board. What happened?”

“I made a stupid mistake,” Remy said. “But Annie here saved me from making it worse.”

Annie felt a blush of warmth as Remy recalled the incident over the potato salad and
the shunned couple. Adam’s Englisher girl had a good heart.

“And you didn’t know about dipping,” Mary said sympathetically.
“Once a shunned person serves himself from community food, members in good standing
can’t eat from that bowl or platter.”

Remy rubbed the back of her neck. “That’s one lesson I’ll never forget. But the couple
is so sweet. It’s hard to believe they were shunned.”

“I know.” Ruthie nodded. “Rose Miller taught me how to embroider flowers at Mamm’s
quilting bees. She was so very kind.”

“Good folks are put in the bann sometimes,” Mary said. “It’s got to be done so that
people obey the rules.”

Annie could see the confusion shadowing the young faces of the girls at the table.
“I know it’s hard to understand, but I’ve never seen our bishop put a member under
the bann without giving the person lots of chances. It’s a last resort that usually
comes only after many warnings.”

Ruthie seemed lost in thought as she pulled the crust from her bread. “I’ll be glad
when the shunning is over. I’d like to learn some more embroidery from Rose. Maybe
she’ll come to our next quilting.”

“That would be wonderful good.” Mary nodded at her younger sister.

“Maybe I can glean a few shortcuts from Rose,” Remy said. “I have a lot of catching
up to do.”

“You’ll get there,” Annie said encouragingly.

“You haven’t seen me sew,” Remy said. “It’s quite a challenge for me. Leah and Susie
have been helping me, but I’m all thumbs.”

Leah and Susie exchanged a mischievous look, then bubbled over with laughter. “Remember
the time you were embroidering a patch and you accidentally sewed it onto your dress?”
Leah asked.

Remy pressed a hand to her mouth to cover her grin. “I don’t think anyone is going
to let me forget that little mishap.”

“I’ve already forgotten it,” Ruthie said. “Your quilting is getting better and better
every time you pick up a needle.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, Ruthie, but I can accept my limitations.
I’ll keep to the kitchen while you and your sisters manage the quilt business.” Like
most Amish women, Esther King had started her girls quilting at a young age. Selling
the quilts at markets had become one of the family’s side businesses.

“But you’re going to be our sister soon.” Ruthie’s eyes were round with mirth as she
bit into her sandwich.

Remy’s face softened with pleasure, and Annie felt a twinge of longing. Her heart
ached to have a beau, a man she loved. Someone to start a life and a family with … a
baby in her arms and a toddler hanging on her skirt. Wasn’t that the dream of every
Amish girl?

“Ya, time to learn the family business,” Susie teased Remy.

“I’ll keep trying,” Remy said, “but honestly, I think I’d have better luck learning
to milk a cow.”

The King girls burst out laughing.

“What’s that about?” Annie asked.

Remy rolled her eyes. “I think they’re remembering the time I tried to help milk the
cows in my nightgown. Let’s just say, I don’t have dairy skills either.”

“But you always try to pitch in,” Susie said. “You’re a helper.”

“And a good worker,” Mary added.

Annie nibbled on delicious apple
Schnitz
, enjoying the banter between Remy and the King girls. What a difference a day could
make! Only a few hours ago she had thought very mean thoughts about Remy. Ya, she
had judged her, just as Preacher Dave had spoken of today. And to think, she had pictured
Remy as an orange spider who’d attacked Adam. This girl was gentle as a lamb.

Laughter bubbled from her throat. How silly she’d been.

“What are you laughing at?” Mary asked.

Annie hesitated, noticing the expectant faces of Remy and the King girls. “I’m laughing
at my own addled brain,” Annie said.

A
re you sure no one will see us?” Gabriel King asked his cousin Ben as his horse Mercury
trotted the buggy down the road. Anyone passing them would think they were just out
for a quiet ride on a Sunday afternoon. That was how it looked—and Gabe wanted to
keep it that way.

“I told you, Blake and his father have built a whole maze of trails on their property.
It’s way off the road, and it backs up to the woods. No one will ever know we’re there.”
Ben pointed up to the road ahead. “See that blue mailbox on the right? Turn there.”

Gabe shifted the reins so that Mercury turned down the paved lane that split off from
the main road. “And Blake won’t mind me coming along?”

“He said that I should bring my friends. The more the merrier—that’s what he said.”
Ben gave his shoulder a shove. “Don’t be such a nervous Nellie.”

“I’m not nervous.” Gabe cocked his hat back on his head. “I just don’t want to get
caught doing things that are against the Ordnung.”

Ben gestured toward the land and trees around them—the red maples, the whispering
leaves of the birch trees, the stubby fields, golden in the late-afternoon sunlight.
“Who’s around to catch us?”

“I’m just saying there’d be a price to pay with the bishop.” And with his brother
Adam, too. Adam wasn’t so easy about looking the other way during rumspringa like
most Amish parents.

“Take it easy.” Ben slapped his knee. “We’re just doing some friendly socializing
on a Sunday afternoon.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Gabe said. “And it’s not what I came here for.”

It was fine for Amish youth to socialize with friends on the Sabbath, but the sort
of activity they were about to take on would be frowned upon any day of the week.
Gabe knew that, but still, he couldn’t resist the excitement of what Blake Gooden
had to offer.

Gabe had never met Blake. He’d never really been friends with an Englisher before
Remy McCallister had come along, and she was more a family friend. But ever since
Cousin Ben had met Blake, the Englisher boy and his collection of dirt bikes were
all that Ben wanted to talk about when the older folk weren’t around. Ben had met
Blake at a horse auction with his father. They had talked for a while, and Blake had
invited Ben over to check out “some real horsepower.” At least, that was how Ben had
told the story. All that Gabe knew for sure was that this guy had some fast motorbikes,
something Gabe had always wanted to try.

When they pulled around to the back of the sprawling house surrounded by porches and
tall poplar trees, an older man paced on the back deck, talking on his cell phone.

“That’s not Blake.” Ben looked toward the scattered hay bales and trails on the other
side of the fence and cupped his ear. A high whining sound pealed from the back acres.
“Hear that? That’s Blake.”

The man on the phone waved at them, then turned away to finish his conversation. As
Gabe hopped down from the buggy and tied
Mercury up to a hitching post near water, he hoped his cousin was right about this
Blake fella. It wasn’t often that Gabe went out of his way to meet someone, especially
an Englisher.

“This had better be good,” Gabe muttered under his breath.

“You’ll see.” Ben nodded, his lips banded together smugly as the bike whined closer,
appearing on the path that wound around the barn. Once it was in sight, the bike closed
the distance fast. It shot toward them, then skidded to a stop, spraying dust. The
rider was cool and mysterious behind a full helmet with smoky glass covering his face.

Blake was tall and thin—a similar build to Gabe’s, though he didn’t seem to have a
lot of muscle on him. Gabe held his breath until the rider took off his helmet, revealing
just a tall boy. The short, pale curls cut close to his head reminded Gabe of one
of the neighbor’s sheep.

Ben did the talking on their end, and Blake nodded at Gabe, saying, “Cool.” He led
them over to an outbuilding that had been turned into a garage. Inside, half a dozen
shiny bikes were lined up, tilting casually to rest on their metal pokers. Kickstands,
Ben called them.

“Very nice,” Gabe said, taking in the glimmering silver and parts painted in crazy
lime green, orange, and blue brighter than a bolt of lightning. He hadn’t seen anything
so tempting since his
Grossmammi
had taken him into a candy store in Paradise when he was just a boy.

As Gabe listened to Blake’s explanation, he learned that the bikes had funny names
like Rupp and Taco, Arctic Cat and Yamaha. He didn’t understand what made them different
from one another, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to give one a try.

“You’ll want to start with a minibike,” Blake said. “For newbies, they’re easier to
handle than a full motorcycle. They all give a different ride. Depends on what you
like.”

Gabe swung one leg over a small blue bike and planted his hands on the handlebars.
The grips fit his fingers like a glove. He pressed his shoes to the ground, testing.
Would he be able to balance?

“This is great,” Gabe said. “But why do you have so many?” A guy could only ride one
at a time.

“My father is into toys,” Blake said. “Besides, there isn’t a whole lot else to do
out here. But we ride all the time. Dad and I built a dirt bike track out in the back
pasture. And sometimes, when I get bored, I take the trails through the woods. Have
you ridden a bike before?” he asked.

“This is his first time,” Ben answered for Gabe. “But I told him it’s not that hard
to do.”

“Let me show you how it works.” Blake grinned. “Knowing how to stop is key.” Gabe
got a lesson on how to switch gears with the kick pedal so that the bike could go
faster.

It didn’t seem so hard to learn, though some of Blake’s words floated off in the air.
In his mind, Gabe was already flying down the path a mile from here.