Autumn Winds (17 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Hubbard

Tags: #Fiction, #Religious, #Christian, #Romance, #Amish & Mennonite

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Miriam glanced at her sister. Leah looked as wide-eyed as the other women seated around them. Without naming names, Preacher Gabe was calling a spade a spade, saying Hiram Knepp had condemned others while believing his position as bishop set him above the need for confession. Never mind that she could see herself in the role of that “poor” soul being pounced upon.
Gabe went on at great length, asking them to ponder their tendencies to place themselves above punishment—above the law—and to humble themselves by falling on their knees to confess and repent. Miriam wondered how Hiram must feel, being so overtly called upon to submit to the will of God and the People . . .
Yet the bishop showed no sign of discomfort or displeasure. For a moment during the long sermon, Hiram met Miriam’s gaze, yet he showed no inclination toward that humility Gabe was expounding upon. After the singing of the final hymn, when Hiram asked the children and nonmembers to leave, it surprised them all that the members’ meeting he called was about a totally different topic from what Gabe had preached about.
“A situation that demands our full attention has arisen,” the bishop began in a ringing voice, “involving the sale of property along the river, on the Lantz place. I understand Ben Hooley is bringing two of his brothers to Willow Ridge to open a new gristmill. He’s had papers drawn up and a survey done, and Sister Miriam has agreed to sell him this land without consulting any of the preachers or me about it.”
“I think a mill would benefit every one of us,” one of the men declared. “And after havin’ Ben over to my place weldin’ a baler and shoein’ my horses, I’m pleased such a fella wants to live here.”
Miriam and the other women stretched to see who had spoken so boldly. Hiram turned to study the men’s side of the room. “Please stand so we know whom to address,” he said in an extremely polite voice.
After a few tense moments, Daniel Kanagy—Leah’s husband—rose to his feet. He stood a bit taller than the bishop, and his life of farm work had muscled him out and burnished his skin like fine leather. Beside Miriam, Leah murmured, “Oh, I hope he knows what he’s lettin’ himself in for.”
Hiram smiled stiffly. “Several among us have done business with Mr. Hooley; myself included. But until I called to speak with the bishop of his home district near Lancaster County, I was unaware of the sort of person we’re inviting among us,” he continued in an ominous voice. “Ben has never settled down—keeps his wagon rolling down the road—because he jilted a young woman to whom he was engaged, dishonoring both her family and his own.”
Hiram paced a few steps in his confined area between the male and female sides of the crowded room. “Is this the sort of man you want to do business with, my friends? And more importantly—is he a man our sister Miriam should be associating with?” he asked in a rising voice. “Ben might be a fine farrier, but I don’t trust him. And I fear for Miriam’s soul when she’s alone with him.”
“Beggin’ your pardon, Hiram, but you’re pouncin’ on Miriam yet again, just like that lion in the Scripture.” Of all things, Leah stood up. She clasped her work-worn hands in front of her, nervous, but she didn’t waver. “You’re the leader God chose for us by the drawin’ of the lot, but I’d respect ya a lot more if you’d go down on your knees to admit you’ve stepped outta line, the same as you decide for the rest of us. And it’s time ya stopped houndin’ my sister in front of the whole town, too,” she added staunchly. “Miriam’s made it clear she wants no part of marryin’ ya.”
Miriam groaned inwardly, yet she was grateful that her sister had stood up for her. It compensated for the way Leah had tattled to Bishop Knepp last summer, when Miriam had gone to meet Bob Oliveri, her daughter Rebecca’s English
dat
. Across the room from them, heads nodded while the women’s kapps bobbed in agreement.
“Sister Leah, you’re changing the subject,” Hiram informed her. “We were discussing the sale of Miriam’s land—”
“
Jah
, well, Moses thought he could get away with killin’ that Egyptian slave driver who was beatin’ up on one of his kin, too. Thought nobody saw him—but Pharaoh got word and Moses was banished from the palace.” Henry Zook, the storekeeper, stood up a few benches away from Daniel Kanagy. “After that, Moses had to hide out in Midian, keepin’ sheep—and
my
concern is for
your
soul, Hiram. Seems to me you’re ignorin’ your need to confess before God—and ignorin’ what most of us think is a
gut
opportunity for expansion here in town.”
Then, lo and behold, Henry’s wife, Lydia, stood up a row in front of Miriam. “King David wanted Bathsheba for his wife, too, so he sent her husband to the front lines of battle, knowin’ he’d be killed,” she began in a nervous voice. “But God took David down a peg or two later on, for behavin’ like he knew it all and didn’t need to listen to his Lord. How come you’re not willin’ to confess like the rest of us, Hiram? Are ya better than we are, just because ya raise those fancy Belgians and ya can’t be voted out of your position?”
The roomful of people got deathly quiet. What an unprecedented situation it was, when two bold couples stood together to denounce Hiram Knepp. Miriam closed her eyes, praying that this matter would come to a positive solution before Ben returned from Pennsylvania. Why would Ira and Luke Hooley want to stay in a place that was in such an uproar over their mill, before folks had even met them?
“Ah, but I have indeed confessed to Bishop Shetler of Morning Star and to Bishop Mullet of New Haven.” Hiram pressed his palms together, the vision of a man about to pray. “I admitted my guilt to those in a position to hear and accept my plea for forgiveness. The offending photograph on my website has been removed, and I’m sorry those of you who saw it—”
“
Jah
, see there? Just like the fella in the Scripture, ya figured nobody would know any better about that picture.” Preacher Tom stood up then, and Gabe rose beside him. “Gabe and I, in your best interest, asked you to show some contrition. Callin’ a members’ meetin’ to point a finger at Ben Hooley’s long-ago past and to shut him down without lettin’ us have our say about it—now that’s a horse of a different color altogether.”
Tom shook his head as he gazed out over the gathering. “For all we know, Ben confessed and was forgiven for breakin’ his promise to that gal so long ago—if indeed that’s the way it happened. We can’t judge him, because we weren’t there.”
Again the room went silent. Hiram Knepp’s face furrowed as he looked at the two preachers and the two couples who still stood, challenging him. Miriam’s insides felt unbearably tight. When the bishop glared at her, she sensed Hiram believed she had rallied her friends in Ben’s best interest, circumventing his authority. And she knew, too, that he still intended to marry her—was perhaps even more determined now that a younger fellow had shown an interest in her.
After what seemed an eternity, during which no one moved or spoke, Hiram let out a disgusted sigh. “All right then, we shall vote upon the matter of Ben Hooley and his brothers opening a mill on the river,” he proposed tersely. “And should time prove me correct—should misfortune occur in Willow Ridge because we invited this family into our midst—we shall remember this day when we ignored the counsel of one who tried to steer us away from consequences we’ll regret.”
He turned to Mahlon Zook, Henry’s father, who sat on the end of the front pew with the church’s oldest members. “The vote will be aye or nay, in favor of the mill or against it,” the bishop stated. “As always, we strive for unanimity so the will of the People shall prevail.”
“Aye,” Mahlon said.
“Aye,” stated Wilbert Reihl beside him.
And on it went, until all the men had voted in favor of the new mill.
Hiram’s face remained a stern mask as he turned to the women’s side. Leah and Lydia had sat down, but their speeches had inspired confidence among their sisters in the faith. Never in any of their lifetimes had members so openly challenged a bishop’s leadership, yet when the eldest—Daniel’s mother, Essie Kanagy—said aye, the room rang with her conviction. And down the rows it went. Miriam grasped her sister’s hand in triumph as the vote proceeded to the back of the room where the youngest members sat.
This time the silence that followed felt entirely different; the People had spoken, unanimously, and only the bishop had taken a negative stance. Hiram quickly ended the meeting with a prayer.
The October day had a chill to it, so the men set up long tables for the common meal indoors, using the pew benches as seats. They chattered excitedly as they discussed the potential a new mill offered to each of them.
In the kitchen, the women bustled about unwrapping the pies and other dishes they’d prepared beforehand to go with the platters of ham Leah had prepared. Miriam had fried several chickens in the café on Saturday, for cooking on the Sabbath was forbidden.
And oh, the quiet comments from her friends as they put out the place settings and poured water into the glasses.
“Such a nice fella, Ben Hooley is,” Reuben’s wife, Esther, remarked. “A real pleasure it was to talk with him while he ate his dinner at our place last week. And he spoke so well of
you
, Miriam.”
“
Jah
, it’ll be
gut
havin’ another family here and another business,” Hannah Brenneman joined in. She was Naomi’s youngest, and she’d taken over most of the household chores for her mother. “And it can only be
gut
if Ben’s brothers are hardworkin’ and lookin’ to start families, ain’t so?”
“Been needin’ some new blood for a long time now,” Gabe Glick’s granddaughter Millie agreed. “Seems like all the older kids have married and moved down the road to Morning Star or—”
“But with Rachel marryin’ Micah next week, that’ll start a whole new generation here,” Rhoda pointed out.
That inspired a flurry of conversation about the wedding details, and Miriam’s heart swelled. She felt blessed to be living among families who had supported her in her darkest days after Jesse had passed. Her parents were long gone and her older sisters and brothers had scattered to Plain settlements in Bowling Green and Jamesport.
“So are ya ready for the big day? Thursday’s not far off,” someone behind her asked.
Miriam turned to smile at Annie Mae Knepp, the bishop’s oldest daughter still living at home. She had a harried look about her, as usual, yet she was making an effort at conversation among older women who had outvoted her father’s wishes. “I’ve got the cake to make yet,” Miriam replied, “but otherwise we’ve made progress on the cleanin’ and preparin’ at the house.”
“
Jah
, there’s always that,” Annie Mae replied with a shake of her head. “At our house, I no sooner get one chore done—the floors scrubbed, say—when in come the twins, trackin’ mud from the creek bed, or—”
As though her brothers had known they were the topic of conversation, Josh and Joey Knepp came racing through the front room, down the narrow aisles between the tables, in hot pursuit of little Sara. Fifteen-year-old Nellie, holding toddler Timmy against her hip, tried to corral the twins as Sara gleefully ran behind Annie Mae’s skirt, grabbing her knees and laughing at the ruckus she’d started.
Then it was Hiram entering the kitchen, his expression stormy as he looked at his two older daughters. “Time and again I’ve told you to take better charge over the twins and Sara,” he warned in a tight voice. “Where else will they learn proper behavior if not from you?”
The kitchen got quiet. Every woman there had an answer to the bishop’s question, but none of them expressed it.
Miriam said a quick prayer for Nellie and Annie Mae, who surely missed their
mamm
—and probably even missed Linda, Hiram’s second wife and the mother of the four youngest Knepps—whenever their
dat
scolded them this way.
As they carried the last of the food to the tables, Naomi Brenneman stepped up to the bishop. “It’s none of my business, maybe, but Linda told us—more than once—that her doctor insisted she should be havin’ no more babies or it would do her in,” she murmured.
Although they were startled that Naomi dared to bring up this subject, the women around her nodded.
“Yet ya refused to go along with that, Bishop,” Naomi went on in a trembling voice. “So now the twins and Sara and Timmy are runnin’ wild because their
mamm
, Linda, died of complications birthin’ a stillborn—”
“You’re right. That’s none of your business.” Hiram’s dark eyes bored into Naomi’s until she looked away, mumbling an apology. He scattered the rest of the onlookers with a disapproving gaze. As he approached Miriam, it was obvious he’d had enough of folks finding fault with him.
“The longer you defy my intention to marry you, Miriam, the higher the price we’ll all pay for your obstinance,” he murmured tersely. “While your friends might voice their support, you have forgotten the Scripture Gabe read from Peter, who tells us to be accountable to one another, clothed in humility . . . living honorably in marriage, as God intended. This won’t happen if you encourage the attentions of Ben Hooley.”
Miriam clutched her platter of chicken to keep from dropping it. “I’m leavin’ it up to God, as far as what’s honorable and what He’d have me do with the rest of my life.”
She sensed the sympathy of the women around her . . . felt Rachel and Rhoda—and even Annie Mae and Nellie Knepp—supporting her in their silent witness. So she dared to pick one more bone with the bishop. “I’d appreciate it, Hiram, if ya wouldn’t call Ben’s former fiancée out in Lancaster anymore,” she said quietly. “You’ve got Polly all stirred up—hopin’ Ben’ll come back to her now that her husband has passed—the man her
dat
, the bishop back then, made her marry. It’s not one bit honorable, the way you’re twistin’ the facts to suit your purpose. And my answer is still
no
.”

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