A Simple Vow (12 page)

“When I explained to the ladies about how the one clock’s music tracks work—and packed the pendulum clock for them,” Loretta said in a rush, “Nora said I was a natural at working with customers, and she asked me if I would work in her store, starting tomorrow. And I—I said yes!”

Dat’s knife and fork came to a standstill. “You know it’s not our way to allow our young women to work amongst English—”

“But I’m doing it to cover any extra expenses for the twins,” Loretta insisted quietly. “When you asked Luke Hooley to pay us so much more for our eggs, I . . . I thought maybe we were running a little short on money and that my wages from the store would help out.”

The kitchen went painfully quiet. Dat’s expression was like none Edith had ever seen. For a moment his eyes widened as though he’d been trying to keep their financial difficulties a secret. His Adam’s apple bobbed above his open collar when he swallowed. Then Dat’s face resumed its usual composure, and he found a smile. “Our household expenses are my responsibility,” he said in a low voice. “I certainly hope you didn’t let on to Nora that we can’t make ends meet.”

“Oh, no—nothing like that,” Rosalyn cut in. “We were caught up in the excitement of watching those ladies buy so much stuff.”

“Or—or if you don’t want me working out in the store,” Loretta continued earnestly, “Nora has also asked if I would teach classes on how to make my toothbrush rugs. Nora will be there, and we could meet in one of her enclosed rooms—”

“Probably of an evening when the store’s closed, so there won’t be customers,” Edith put in. “Nora said you could set your own schedule, Loretta.”

She and her sisters watched Dat spoon more mashed potatoes onto his plate and smother them with gravy. When Louisa began to squeal, Edith offered her a pacifier—and Rosalyn did the same for Leroy.

“Your description of the two English women’s buying so many items is a prime example of why I don’t want you working in Nora’s store,” Dat explained. He put down his utensils to focus on each one of them in turn. “I’m concerned that your exposure to such extravagant spending will undermine the frugality our faith teaches, or that you will come to confuse your
desire
for something as a
need
for it. Simple Gifts is a wonderful place—filled with tempting items, is it not?”

Edith shared glances with her sisters as they nodded. All of them were enthralled with Nora and her beautiful merchandise.

“Temptation starts so innocently,” their father went on in a faraway voice, “that before we’re aware of it, we begin to sacrifice time and money we should be spending on necessities in pursuit of worldly pleasure. This is why I’m fine with your making your rugs at home to sell in Nora’s store, Loretta, but I don’t want you working there. Do you understand my concern?”

Loretta nodded obediently, but Edith sensed her sister was fighting tears. At least Dat’s tone of voice was patient, and he seemed intent on looking after their best interests—they had expected him to be angry when Loretta announced that she’d already agreed to work for Nora. The three of them remained quiet, because their father appeared to be considering other things to say. Edith smiled at little Louisa and lifted her from the high chair to cuddle her.

“Another matter that concerns me about Nora—and Luke,” Dat continued, “is that they were both raised in the Old Order faith and they left it to become Mennonites. What a disappointment this must have been to their families. And you may not have heard this, but when she was sixteen Nora became pregnant out of wedlock, dropped baby Millie on her brother’s doorstep, and then went on to live in the English world married to an English man—whom she divorced before she returned to Willow Ridge.”

Edith’s eyes widened as she looked at Loretta and Rosalyn. “I—I had no idea,” she murmured.

Dat smiled ruefully. “I’m sure Nora doesn’t dwell on her past,” he remarked, “but we know that Jesus explicitly forbade divorce, and that the Bible condemns those who divorce as adulterers if they remarry. The apostle Paul lists adultery as a mortal sin in his letter to the Galatians, saying those who engage in such activities shall not inherit the kingdom of God.”

Edith nodded sadly, rocking Louisa in her arms. Her father had often read passages that pertained to such sinful matters while they were growing up, to prevent them from following the path to perdition. Although their parents had generally avoided the topic of relations between a man and a woman—or how babies were made—Dat had always had plenty to say about the sins of the flesh.

“It puzzles me that Nora’s father, Gabe Glick, was a preacher when she was growing up—and Luke’s brother Ben is a preacher, as well, yet their families have accepted their unfortunate choices,” Dat continued in a pensive voice. “But then, Bishop Tom has also told me that the previous bishop of Willow Ridge, Hiram Knepp, was excommunicated for owning a car, amongst other things—”

Edith blinked. No one had told her
this
story, either, in the short time they’d lived here.

“—and that he eventually became so twisted in his thinking that he set fire to the original café on Christmas Eve and died in the explosion,” Dat went on with a shake of his head. “It might be that such permissive behavior amongst the church members began while Knepp was the bishop. Had I known how
progressive
the Willow Ridge district has become—how such serious breaches of the Old Order faith have been allowed here—I might not have left Roseville. Cousin Reuben never mentioned the carryings-on of his neighbors, you see.”

Rosalyn playfully rubbed Leroy’s nose with her own before lifting the little boy from his high chair. The twins were getting antsy, which in turn made Dat study them as though considering the sinful situation in which they’d been conceived. He picked up his knife and fork to finish his dinner.

“That said, we can’t look back,” Dat remarked, dragging a bite of meat through the gravy on his plate. “Loretta, I admire your willingness to contribute to our family’s income, but I’d be happier if you sold your rugs and budgeted your earnings as you see fit. It’s
gut
practice for running your own household someday. A frugal, mindful woman—as your mother was—makes life a joy for the man who marries her.”

“
Denki,
Dat,” Loretta whispered. “That’s what I’ll do.”

After their father had finished his supper and tucked away a slice of pie, he excused himself to return to his workshop. Edith rose from the table to slip her arm around Loretta, just as Rosalyn did. “I’m sorry, Sister,” Edith murmured. “We were all so excited about your working in Simple Gifts.”

“We all knew Dat would probably say I couldn’t,” Loretta responded with a nod. “At least he was in a reasonable mood—”

“And who
knew
about Nora’s leaving baby Millie behind, and getting divorced?” Rosalyn whispered with wide eyes. “She’s been nothing but nice to us, and to these babies—”

“Dat’s calling her a sinner, but aren’t we all?” Edith remarked pensively. “Nora’s patient and kind—the definition of love given to us by the apostle Paul. Everyone has welcomed her and Luke, so who’s to say that Willow Ridge folks are too progressive or permissive? Maybe they simply believe in forgiveness to the same degree Jesus did.”

“
Jah,
that’s how I see it, too. Sometimes one Bible passage seems to contradict another,” Rosalyn remarked as she filled the sink with dishwater. “No matter what Dat says, we’re not to judge Nora and Luke—or anyone else. I’m still glad she’s our friend.”

“Me too,” Edith agreed as she situated Louisa in her high chair with a few cloth toys. “Some things are meant to remain a mystery until God sees fit to reveal their meaning. And some day He will.”

Chapter Nine

Friday morning as Edith put clean, wet clothes through the ringer of the washer, she had time to think about the many topics that had come up during supper yesterday. Dat had left after breakfast for an estate sale in Morning Star, where he’d read that several old clocks were being auctioned off. Loretta had gone to Simple Gifts first thing to tell Nora she wouldn’t be working there—but she’d come home with a big bag of fabric remnants she’d bought at the Willow Ridge Quilt store. She was sitting on the porch, keeping an eye on the twins in their playpen as she tore long strips of the fabric to make another rug. Rosalyn was in the basement organizing their jars of pressure-canned fruits and vegetables so they’d have room on the shelves to store this year’s crop.

Edith filled the washer with warm water, shirts, and dresses so this load would agitate while she hung the clothes in her laundry basket. When she stepped outside, she gave thanks for the green pasture where red and white chickens pecked, and for the cloudless blue sky, and for the patchwork of farmsteads with white homes, red barns, and tidy shops she could see from their back stoop. She shook out one of Dat’s gray shirts and hung it on the clothesline, then did the same with four identical shirts. Edith cranked the handle of the big pulley to bring empty clothesline within her reach while shifting the shirts out over the yard.

How could so much
drama
have occurred in this peaceful little town? How could nice people like Bishop Tom and Lydia Zook and the Naomi Brenneman who managed the Grill N Skillet live and work in such harmony with folks like Andy Leitner and Nora Hooley, who’d divorced their original mates—not to mention Luke and Ira, who’d reportedly led freewheeling lives before they’d married? Some Old Order folks—Dat, for instance—believed that people who’d left the Amish faith had forfeited their salvation by turning their backs on Jesus and His teachings. Yet here in Willow Ridge, Edith sensed no censure or condemnation. The women, for example, knew about the dubious circumstances surrounding Will Gingerich and Asa, yet they’d opened their hearts to see that the twins were cared for.

Lord, I want to avoid the snares and pitfalls of temptation Dat was describing,
she prayed as she shook out a purple dress.
But I still want to raise these babies, and I want to befriend Nora, and—

The
clip-clop clip-clop
of hooves on the road made Edith look up. She sucked in her breath. Could that big black horse pulling the wagon possibly belong to Asa? When Edith stepped off the stoop to watch the gelding, the driver waved his arm above his head and grinned at her.

“Asa!” she murmured as she hurried toward the road. Then, in her excitement, she cried his name out loud. “Asa! You’re back! It’s so
gut
to see you!”

When he tipped his hat at her sister, Edith realized that anyone in the neighborhood could’ve heard her calling out Asa’s name. But she didn’t care. Her heart raced as she jogged behind the wagon, which was loaded with old furniture. Asa halted his horse on the roadside and hopped to the ground. He reached into the vehicle, near the footboard, and brought up a bouquet of fresh lilacs.

“For you, Edith,” he murmured as he leaned toward her.

She could hardly breathe. As Asa held her gaze, she fumbled for the flowers and found his strong, warm hand instead. His face was shaded by the broad brim of his straw hat and the raven hair falling over his forehead, yet his smile was so dazzling she might have been staring straight into the sun.

“You look so—your bruise is gone,” she murmured when her brain seemed too addled to think of anything else.

“I’m doing well, feeling really
gut,
” he murmured. “Seems I had a fine nurse to pull me through after my accident.”

Edith’s cheeks went hot. Standing here, gazing up at him, it seemed that everything else in the world had disappeared. She was glad the loaded wagon stood between her and Loretta and the neighbors—not that she and Asa were doing anything unseemly. “Are you staying with the Hooleys again, or—”

“This is a very quick trip,” he insisted. “I had a load to pick up, and I took the long way home, hoping for a peek at you and the property across the road. Wanted to be sure my first impressions were correct, considering that I took quite a bump to my head last week.”

“Come on in,” Edith insisted, tugging at his hand. “Leroy and Louisa will be glad to see you—and Loretta and Rosalyn, too. Dat’s gone to an estate sale—”

“Temptation, thy name is Edith,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

She forgot what else she’d intended to say. With his shining black hair brushing his collar and his bottomless indigo eyes drinking her in, and his even white teeth, Edith thought he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. And his expression told her he thought she was
beautiful
. When had she ever felt so breathless?

“We—we could fix an early lunch,” she offered, “or even just have some coffee and the rest of the apple fritters from breakfast—”

“Edith,” he whispered. “I’ve not been able to get you off my mind. Phooey on fritters. It’s you I’m wanting a taste of.”

Before she knew what was coming, Asa kissed her. It was the merest brush of his lips, but it sent her into a state of ecstatic euphoria that would keep her floating for the rest of the day. “Oh,” she murmured.
“Oh.”

Asa gently ran his finger down her cheek. “I’ve got to get back on the road, or my brother’ll wonder what’s waylaid me,” he murmured. “But you’ve given me enough sugar to keep me high all the way home. I’ll be back as soon as I can, all right?”

Nodding eagerly, Edith took the flowers he pressed into her hand.

Asa vaulted back into the wagon seat and took up the lines. “Let’s go, fella,” he said to his horse. As the wagon lurched forward, Asa left her with a parting wink.

For the longest time Edith remained in the middle of the road looking after him. Inhaling the heady scent of the lilacs, she dared to dream of the next time she would see him. He’d only been here for a few minutes, but he’d altered his route to see
her.
He’d changed her whole day.

“Better get yourself out of the road, little sister. You’ll get run down, and you’ll never know what hit you.”

Edith blinked and looked at Loretta, sitting on the porch swing. Her sister’s words finally penetrated the haze of happiness that filled her head, and she strode briskly toward the house. Had Loretta seen Asa kiss her? Edith decided not to say anything, to let it be a sweet little secret. “Asa was hauling furniture back to Clifford,” she explained as she ascended the porch steps. “Said he’d be back soon, when he could stay longer. His brother’s waiting for him to—”

Loretta’s raised eyebrow told Edith she’d been babbling. She stuck her nose into the lilacs again. “Better put these in water before they wilt.”

“Might want to douse yourself with cold water while you’re at it,” her sister teased. “Otherwise you’re likely to be drifting like a balloon in a breeze for the rest of the day, silly. He kissed you, didn’t he?”

Edith feigned shock and then widened her eyes. “I don’t know.
Did
he?”

As she floated into the house, Edith felt confident that her sister wouldn’t tattle on her—if indeed she’d seen that kiss—because she’d kept Loretta and Will’s romantic activities to herself when they’d been engaged. Nothing improper had happened between Loretta and Will, and while Edith realized it was too soon for Asa to kiss her, she didn’t feel any more wayward or sinful than her sister was.

Matter of fact, she’d never felt happier.

* * *

As Asa unloaded the wagon at the shop’s back door, he noticed clouds rolling in and smelled a hint of coming rain. “Better get this stuff inside, and then we can write up the inventory for it,” he remarked to his brother. “That front’s moving in pretty fast.”

He wondered if Willow Ridge was already getting some moisture—which made him think of the neat green rows of vegetables in the Riehl garden, and clothes flapping on the line, and the way Edith had gazed at him with her sparkling brown eyes.

“Have you thought any more about our buying the farm in Willow Ridge?” Asa asked. “If we don’t put our money down soon, someone else is liable to snap it up. The real estate guy said homes in the country are popular for folks who don’t make their living farming—hobby farms, he called them.”

As he and Drew positioned an antique settee between them, Asa tried to gauge his brother’s reaction. Sometimes Drew was a tough nut to crack, yet today Asa detected a glimmer of interest.

“I’d need to know what sort of investment we’d have to make in the property and in a new shop building,” Drew said as they eased the settee through the narrow doorway. “And what could we expect to get for
this
place? This building’s not in great shape, and when you consider what farmland with a house on it costs, we’ll probably need a loan that’ll take forever to pay off.”

It was a reasonable request—a sign that Drew had at least been considering a change of address. “Luke can probably get me some figures for either frame or metal buildings,” Asa replied. “And I’ll call the gal who sold us this place, to ask what it’ll sell for now.”

“I guess our turnover time lately is making me think we might be better off in a bigger town,” Drew said. He set his end of the settee down in the back room they’d entered, gesturing at the eclectic collection of pieces they’d bought to refurbish. “Doing custom work for folks who already own the pieces is fine, but some of our stuff sits in the shop a long time before we move it. And hauling pieces around to antique shows takes a lot of effort.”

“
Jah,
it does,” Asa agreed. “In Willow Ridge we could have a better showroom with windows, plus we could consign some pieces to Nora’s store. There’s an English gal who designs Web sites for the businesses there, too, and I’m thinking it’s time we did that. More exposure means more sales.”

Drew chuckled as they returned to the wagon. “Who would’ve ever thought
we
would be advertising on the Internet? But I’m okay with that as long as I don’t have to learn how to use a computer.”

“Nora—or that Rebecca gal who does the Web sites—would handle all that,” Asa assured his brother. “They could take pictures of our pieces, and update our site when we’ve sold stuff or when we get new inventory. I’m all for paying her to do that, because print ads don’t bring us much business. People don’t have many reasons to come to Clifford.”

When they’d hefted a drop-leaf table into the back room, Drew got a mischievous look on his face. “Why do I think it’s that girl across the road from the farm that’s making you so hot to trot to Willow Ridge?” he teased. “What’s her name? Enid?”

“Edith,” Asa shot back. “And what’s wrong with moving where more girls live? It’s not like we’ve got any to choose from here.”

“We were stupid not to look into that when we bought this building.”

Asa’s pulse beat faster. He found Drew’s attitude a huge improvement, so Asa decided not to give his brother time to change his mind. “All right, I’ll give Luke a call right now and ask him to check on building costs for us. The way I understand it, the Brennemans in town have built a lot of the existing structures—like the café and Ben Hooley’s smithy.”

“What about a metal building?” Drew suggested. “We’d have less maintenance that way. You know how I hate to paint.”

“You’re on. Be back in a few.”

Asa went to the small room that served as an office to use the phone—a fixture the bishop had allowed them to keep because they had no Plain neighbors with whom to share a phone shanty. As he thumbed through the business cards in the front of the old desk drawer, he couldn’t stop grinning.
Edith, this is working out! Keep smiling and praying, and I’ll convince Drew to move to Willow Ridge sooner rather than later!

No one answered at the Mill in Willow Ridge, so Asa left a message with some approximate dimensions for a building, asking Luke’s opinion about the most practical options. As rain splattered the window, he pictured Edith sitting on her front porch with the twins in their baskets, enjoying the cool breeze as the rain fell around them.

On impulse, Asa looked up Will’s number in the directory and dialed it. He had promised Edith he’d get answers about those babies’ father, and it would be good to have an update on Gingerich now that a few days had passed since his visit.

“
Jah
—Will?” he said when someone picked up after the second ring. “Asa Detweiler. How’re you doing?”

“Huh. About the same.”

Asa reminded himself to be patient, because he didn’t want to put Will off by sounding too cheerful, gushing about his relocation plans. “Not trying to be pushy—and I hope this doesn’t sound crass,” he said, “but have you heard any new clues about who fathered Leroy and Louisa?”

Will let out a sardonic laugh. “It’s not like guys are going to step up and admit to that, you know. But I’ve got a new wrinkle for you.”

“What’s that?”

“Molly’s
dat
still wants me out of here in a couple of weeks, but her
mamm
—Ruth—stopped by yesterday saying it’s time the babies came home,” Will replied with a sigh. “She said that we might not know the father, but the twins are Molly’s. Says it’s only right that family should raise them.”

Asa covered his face with his hand. Molly’s mother was right—but that didn’t mean he liked it. He hated the thought of breaking that news to Edith, too. “How old is Ruth? Twins are a lot of work. Are there other daughters at home to help with them?”

“Nope, Molly was the youngest of eight, and the rest of the girls are married. I’m guessing her parents are pushing fifty.”

Asa tried to corral his stampeding thoughts. He’d known this might happen, but it seemed like the little family of his dreams was being torn apart before he could provide the twins a home. If nothing else, because Molly had called out his name, Asa was willing to accept the blame for a sin he hadn’t committed because he believed Edith wanted to raise the babies, too. “So even if Molly’s parents didn’t feel up to raising twins, they have other daughters who could, right?”