Abram's Daughters 02 The Betrayal (17 page)

Already, Sadie was missing home. Dear Mamma and Dat, her sisters, and Aunt Lizzie, along with the deceased baby she'd birthed missing him every day she lived. She must dry her endless tears and attempt to make a new life for herself, leaving the old behind, including her constant thoughts of the love she'd shared with Derek Schwartz. Hard as it was to forsake the only folk she'd ever known, she must set her mind on meeting a good Amish boy and becoming his wife someday. Nothing else would do.

The more Mary Ruth read from the book Uncle Tom's Cabin, the more outraged she became. She thought con' stantly about the enslavement of helpless black folk during her chores, on the way to house church, and while she prayed silent prayers at night. What a torturous life poor torn led in the south! she thought sadly.

Sometimes her imagination ran unchecked, and she wondered if somewhere in the world there were other men as173/Oeirayal

fliel us plantation owner Simon Legree. Never in Pennsylvania (n\lsl\ country, she assumed. Her world was far different; she H# mile here.

v Slu- would not think of breathing a word of this book, or |y like it, to her family. Not even to Hannah, though she |t| lu-iird last year from several students at the Georgetown fhdol that the book was required study in high school. That ling the case, she'd done herself a favor by devouring it

1 hkI of time.

When she scurried downstairs to help Mamma with Pffikfast, she was startled to find Sadie nowhere around. To jf il off, Dat was just now coming in from the barn, asking, (In, have ya seen Leah?"

Minima's red and swollen eyes told a sad story.

I Abram locked his legs deliberately where he stood, there

jl i he lower portion of the barn where he milked, fed, and

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limrcd his cows daily. He listened with ears to hear, but he

Eli! not comprehend not immediately the things Leah was

pi ling his weeping Ida and him. "What do you mean, you

lelpnl Sadie leave home?" Bewildered, he took off his hat.

w/\\y would you do such an impulsive thing, daughter?"

I I -t-ah hung her head.

I "Ain't like you, Leah," Ida spoke up.

I At last Leah raised her head. "Sadie was .. . well, afraid

pu wouldn't give her your blessin' to go away."

I kl;i was rocking back and forth as she sat on a milk stool.

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"Your sister's wants and wishes haven't influenced you before. How could you act on your own judgment, without your father's say-so?"

"Truth be told, Sadie was plannin' to sneak away on her own."

"And you felt you ought to help her?" Abram felt the ire rising in him and struggled to keep his temper in check. Then, before Leah could respond, he added, "I thought it was you who was lookin' to go out to Millersburg."

"I was, but I honestly thought it wiser for Sadie to be the one. There she'll be welcomed by shirttail cousins looked after, too. I guess you could say she and I traded spots."

"Just a short trade, I hope," Ida said, her jaw set as she leaned against a bale of hay. Her blue eyes looked faded, as if her tears had washed away some of the color.

"Jah, 'tis what both Sadie and I thought she needed a new outlook on life for a little while," Leah replied, looking as sheepish as Abram had ever seen her.

"And was this turn of events disappointin' to Jonas? Sadie goin', 'stead of you?" he couldn't help asking.

"Jonas seemed to understand when I called from Dr. Schwartz's office."

"You used Dr. Schwartz's telephone?" Ida was obviously disappointed.

"I left money beside the phone," Leah said. "I know ir sounds awful forward, Mamma, but there was no other way to make plans quickly. And since Jonas took the train out there, I knew he could give me advice for Sadie's trip."

"Why on earth was it necessary to do all this so quicklike?" Ida folded her arms over her ample bosom.

174 175H I iHiking up at him, Leah captured Abram's heart anew. "I

Hninlcr, l)at . . . and Mamma, did you ever happen to hear

Httllc weepin' in the night?"

H 11 ln's sad eyes gleamed and she nodded her head.

H Ahrnm didn't own up to having heard any such goings-on.

Hf wns more interested in knowing the real reason for Sadie's

Bint Ing to up and leave . . . and where on earth she'd gotten

Hv money.

H "I believe gettin' away for a bit will help my sister." Leah

HflU'J her head and stared at the hayloft.

H Sinnt as it was, that was all the explanation she appeared

Hilling to give for now. Yet he was almost sure Leah knew

Hi hv i ban she was letting on. "You must go to Preacher Yoder

Hlib whatever you're not tellin' us," he said. "Tell him why

Bulic's in Ohio."

H "But . . . Dat, I love my sister" came the soft protest.

H Abram felt he might burst, so frustrated was he. " 'Tis best

Hi i confide in Preacher if you care 'bout her at all."

H "Sisters may come before a beau," Ida added, "but not

fore the Lord God or the church." She was growing tearful

Htfli'*1- "Oh, what'll we do round here without Sadie?" she

whimpered.

I le felt right sad for his wife, surely he did. He understood

hiivv she felt because he felt the selfsame way toward Leah.

i m >h\R over, he placed a gentle hand on Ida's shoulder. "Might A\v i his is gut timin', seein' how rebellious Sadie's been lately." H w:is mighty hard to erase from his mind Sadie's repeatedly Hinilyways.

JF "Maybe she'll appreciate home more once she returns," "t.fiih offered.

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Ida wiped her eyes. "Meanwhile, what'll we tell the twins?"

"Best let me think on this and discuss it tonight at supper," Abram spoke up.

Ida nodded in agreement. So it was settled. Hannah and Mary Ruth would be told something just what, he didn't know yet. He was thankful to have Leah still here living under his roof, that much was certain. Could it mean her affection for Jonas was beginning to fade? He would continue to hold out hope to that end.

"Sadie's visiting some of Fannie Mast's cousins in Ohio for a few weeks," Abram said when they'd all gathered at the table. The twins had begun eating Ida's Swiss steak and rich gravy, but when realization set in, their fair faces drooped identically, as if they'd each lost their best friend.

"This surely is awful sudden, ain't so?" Mary Ruth spoke up. "But Sadie did seem dreadful sad, I daresay. Maybe she'll be happier there."

"Will Sadie be looked after . . . out there, so far away?" Hannah asked shyly.

Abram was glad to reassure his gentle Hannah. So much like Leah, this twin was. Mary Ruth, on the other hand, reminded him of Sadie a troubling thought, to be sure. "Sadie will be just fine, and you'll hear of Millersburg in her letters."

Leah was noddirig at that. "Sadie said she'd write. I 'spect

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^'11 Ik- hwrrin' something in a few days." H Miuy Ruth looked up from her plate and gazed at Leah Hit tluii. Abram noticed the knowing glance exchanged dfWrci i the two. Just as I guessed, he thought. Mary Ruth pro>;fml (/)< money for the train ticket.

I .-hi cr, during Bible reading, he read from the Ninety-first i flliii lo comfort his family. " 'He that dwelleth in the secret I'liicr i l (he most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my forlu-'i'., my God; in him will I trust.'"

I 'rsiJi's him, Mary Ruth was the only one not sniffling as I liinslu'd up the chapter.

H I i/zie paced back and forth in her kitchen, wishing she'd Hi 1-I* I ;i chance to stop Leah from doing what she'd gone and Hi" She was downright annoyed to hear the news from HTi.hu of Sadie's leaving, much preferring Leah or Sadie to Hv< 1 old of their plans.

H Sighing, she was awful sure they'd never see hide nor hair HthHr pretty Sadie again. Ach, the pain of it all, she thought. Hit slopped out onto her back porch and went to lean on the ^llNU-r, taking comfort in her colorful garden flowers, nearly H) niiiny to count. It was as she leaned hard against the railH{ that she was struck anew how this whole terrible idea of H^k-'s to forever keep such a secret was so wrong. She, of H pi'ople, knew what it was like to have a secret burning a Hie in your heart. And with the knowing came the ^111 break . . . and the praying.

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E I *o day after Sadie's departure, Ida carried sleeping Lydiann I ilie wooden crib, recently passed down from her sister-inIw Nancy Ebersol, Abram's younger brother's wife. "Sleep Llii, little one." She kissed the sweet face, then gently lowit -i I i he tiny girl onto the small mattress. I With Lydiann snug for her first long nap of the day, Ida til ihe idea to get a head start on some fall cleaning. She in I i o do something with herself to get her mind off her eld|{ slipping away without thinking enough of them to say liincihing ahead of time. Ever so sneaky, it was. And Abram's tilli ... goodness' sake, what was she thinking by helping Itilii' do such a thing?

I 11 wasn't enough for Leah to tell her side of the story hours ifiT Sadie had already left Lancaster by train; Sadie should fcvi' spoken for herself. Leah revealed she had gone so far as

I1 nntact Jonas Mast to make plans by ringing the telephone pvid Mellinger kept out in the woodworking shop ever so Bprising that was. So ... the Mellingers were much less conBVtitive folk, it seemed, if they were allowed a telephone on

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the property. She did know of a family who had urgent need of a phone for emergencies a child allergic to beestings, she recalled. So maybe David had gotten permission from his bishop for some such reason. A rare thing, indeed. Whatever the circumstances were, the ministers here felt strongly that telephones were not to be had by "a holy generation." Let the Mennonites have their telephones, electricity, and automobiles.

Ida much preferred the strict teachings of their church district, where the People were encouraged to carry the truth within them, hour by hour, and simply write letters or go visiting whenever they could. After all, they were working toward the highest goal: to get to heaven some sweet day.

Most disturbing was that both Sadie and Leah had taken matters into their own hands. Such behavior was typical ol the teen years, though Sadie had already joined church ami wasn't considered to be running around any longer. Ida would be ever so glad once all her girls had joined church, safely within the Fold . . . and settled down as young wives. So surprising it was that her pretty eldest daughter hadn't yet chosen a life mate. If only Sadie could be married first, before her younger sister.

She sighed and got to thinking about making ready for heavy-duty housecleaning. With Hannah and Mary Ruth goinv off to school next Monday, why not have all the girls pitch in amihelp? she thought. Standing at the top of the stairs, she calk-il down to the twins. "Hannah . . . Mary Ruth . . . can you hear me?"

When she received no answer, she assumed they were out doors, so she headed downstairs herself, to the utility room

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i' heir she kept her many mops. Back upstairs, she hurried to

11 if I wins' bedroom, eager to eliminate any and all cobwebs ilmt illicit be hiding from view. Though she could not move iln! heavy double bed herself, she got down on the floor and lilied tip the quilt, peering beneath. Pushing the dry mop as (hi hick against the wall as she could, she felt satisfied. Then to n >sc and went to do the same on Mary Ruth's side of the

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^^ I his time the dry mop bumped into something, and she 'M-il I lie quilt even farther. Getting down to look, she was i prised to see books a good many of them. "Well, what's fliifti1" she whispered, stretching to reach them.

Mary Ruth knew right away she was in hot water when Mtiintna singled her out upstairs following the noon meal. "I iirnl lo ask you something," her mother said. ( u'sturing for her to go into the big bedroom, Mamma ^tii and pulled out the bottom drawer of her wide dresser ^1 brought out Mary Ruth's library books. "I dust mopped Hr room," she said, waving Uncle Tom's Cabin at her, "and I ^Hiul these under your side of the bed. I s'pose they belong Hyou?"

^B By the way Mamma's brow knit into a frustrated frown, H|iy Ruth knew she was in big trouble. Probably more so, ^w (hat Sadie was gone from home and Mamma missed her H| "They belong to the public library," Mary Ruth answered.

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"Why is it you have to go behind my back mine anil Dat's?"

"I like books, Mamma. I enjoy stories that take me to places I can only hope to see . .. and the story people, ever si > different than me." And some not so different, too, she thought, thinking of poor Eliza, the slave girl who had very few choices in life, except to mind her mistress. She couldn't go on to say that looking forward to reading a book was one of the besi things about getting up in the morning. Could she?

"You ain't so much studyin' with this sort of book but readin' lies, Mary Ruth, don't you see?" Mamma meant, ol course, the novels, the made-up stories Hannah had spoken out against, too.

"Books like that have plenty of truth in them. Sometimes it's what the characters learn from goin' through a trial; other times it's "

"My dear girl," Mamma interrupted, "you best be holdin' your tongue."

"Aw, but, Mamma, you could see for yourself." She hurried to her mother's side and removed Harriet Beecher

Stowe's book from the pile. "Just look." She opened the pages to the beginning, hoping against hope Mamma might give her an opportunity to explain.

Her mother gave her a stern look. "You must return the books before they start you thinkin' like the English."

"All the books, Mamma?"

"If they ain't for studyin', then I'm 'fraid so."

That was the last word on the subject. Mary Ruth knew better than to continue to argue. She collected the four nov els from Mamma's hands. Suddenly she thought of a place she

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||!if store them till it was time to return them to the library. puld Dottie Nolt mind if she kept some books at her house? hi c she was headed to the Nolts' after the noon meal in .I row, the timing was altogether perfect. j "Will you be tellin' Dat?" Mary Ruth hoped to be spared