In Plain View (45 page)

“All right,” Christian said that night to Magdalena, “if you still want to go, we’ll leave in the morning.”

They took a small wagon and a team, rather than just two mounts. Her father had seemed to want to fill the wagon with gifts but in the end settled for a dozen jugs of apple cider. He said he remembered that Elizabeth had always liked cider.
Daed
would not let Magdalena drive, however. So she opted to spend part of the journey drowsing in sun-drenched hay in the wagon’s bed with the jugs.

When they crested the final hill before the Irish Creek settlement,
Daed
halted the team. Magdalena peered at the view, searching her mind for the memories of the little girl she had been on Irish Creek. She watched her father now as his face creased in longing and memory as well. He finally raised the reins again, and the team lumbered down the soft slope.

At the back door, her father knocked softly, and a moment later, Katie opened the door. Behind her, Maria and Sarah stood up from the table.

Jacob was out in the barn. Magdalena followed her
daed
into Elizabeth’s bedroom and stood quietly while he watched her labored breathing.

“I need to go find Jacob,” he said softly. “Will you stay with her? If she wakes, she should not be alone.”

Magdalena nodded and settled into a rocker where she could watch Elizabeth. A few minutes later, Maria slipped into the room.

Magdalena stifled a sigh at the sight of the Patriot spy. Why had she even wanted to come on this trip? Her
onkel
made gunpowder, and her aunts spied on the British. She should have realized she was walking into a den of the enemy.

She bit her lip. She was not supposed to have enemies. No one knew what she had done for Patrick. And she was not sorry.

“I heard you were getting married,” Maria said, her voice low and even and soothing. “Then I heard that you did not.”

“He was a good man, but not the right man.” Magdalena made no effort to explain that Nathanael was the right man but she could never have him.

“Then you made the right decision,” Maria said.

Magdalena lifted her eyebrows slightly. No one at home thought she made the right decision.

“My family would not have understood the husband I chose,” Maria said, “but I have no regret. I’m only sorry that we have been separated for two years because of this war.”

Magdalena said nothing, but her throat thickened.

“Is there someone else who is the right man?” Maria asked.

Magdalena nodded. “The war has taken him away from me as well.”

Maria nodded. “Then you know my heart.”

They settled into silence, Magdalena considering her aunt’s words. Oddly, Maria was the one who understood her best.

Elizabeth’s breath grew jagged, and Maria and Magdalena leaned forward in tandem.

“Does she do that often?” Magdalena asked.

Maria shook her head. “This is different. I think you should go get your father and Jacob.”

“Daed hoped to see her awake.”

Maria pulled her lips back in a grimace. “Go get them, Magdalena. Look in the barn or the stables.”

“Someone has to be with her all the time,” Jacob told Christian. “Ever since she fell in the garden, we’ve been watching her, but every day she grew weaker.”

“You’ve cared for her well all these years, Jacob.”

“I could never approach how well she cared for all of us.” Jacob rubbed his temples with both hands.

“I hope to tell her how grateful I am for the early years. I should have done it long ago instead of harboring judgment. I was a grown man with a family of my own before I could see what
Daed
saw when he married her. She never spoke against the Amish and always let me be the man I was destined to be.”

A knock made them both turn to look behind them at the stable door. Magdalena stepped in. Jacob was struck afresh with how much she resembled Maria.

“Maria says you should come,” Magdalena said softly.

“Elizabeth?” Christian said. Jacob watched the color drain from his brother’s face.

“Just come.”

Forty-Eight

October 1781

W
ill you give up gunpowder now?”

Jacob looked at the upturned face of his wife as she reclined in their bed. Her hands rested on the familiar swell of her midsection.

“The war will end soon,” Katie said. “Cornwallis surrendered. It’s only a matter of time before the British come to terms with their defeat.”

“That’s all true.” Jacob sat on the side of the bed and yanked off one boot. “But soldiers are not the only ones who need gunpowder. Farmers need it for blasting rock out of new fields. Hunters need ammunition for their rifles. It may still be a profitable business.”

“At least you can sell it freely instead of sneaking around.”

Jacob removed his other boot then sprawled across the bed in his clothes. Squalling from the loft above them made him sigh.

“It’s Lisbetli,” Katie said. “She’s been fussy all day. She will settle down on her own.”

“But if she wakes up the others, we’ll have a riot on our hands.” He put his hand on her belly. “Where are we going to put this babe once he doesn’t need to be with you all night?”

“We always seem to manage.”

“Maybe we should move to the big house.”

The house at the top of the hill stood empty since Elizabeth’s death. But it had once housed ten children. Jacob well remembered the spacious upstairs bedrooms.

“Or,” Katie said in a tone that made Jacob catch her eyes, “we could move to North Carolina.”

“North Carolina?”

“We’ve talked about it since before we were married. David wants to do it. Then your father died and we did not want to leave your mother. Then the war started….”

“And now the war is over and
Mamm
is gone,” Jacob said.

At fifty-two years of age, Christian Byler was content to leave the work of converting church benches into tables for a meal to younger men. In another month, he and Babsi would host worship and the meal that followed. Today, he stayed out of the way, huddling with a group of older men at one end of the Stutzmans’ wide porch. When their conversation drifted to news of the war’s end, though, Christian scowled.

“It makes no difference to us,” he said. “You know this. We live apart and do not concern ourselves with matters of the
English.”

Christian saw no purpose in speculating on what changes a new American government might bring, but the faces of his friends told him they were not finished with the topic.

“They might well enact new laws and impose them on us,” Joseph Stehnli said.

“There are bound to be taxes,” Levi Lapp said. “The new government already owes huge sums to private investors who funded the war.”

“So we’ll pay our taxes but have nothing to do with it.” Christian threw up his hands and left the group.

He crossed the porch and descended the stairs. On The ground, he balanced himself on the railing and closed his eyes briefly. He should not have let his hunger cause him to speak cross words. Turning, he looked up the stairs and into the house. The young men were nearly finished. Women were already putting food on some of the tables.

Christian cocked his head at the sight of Nathanael Buerki laying a board to form the last of the tables.

Nathanael was laughing. He had never stopped coming to church, but Christian had not seen Nathan smile or laugh in years.

Christian collected his plate of food and sat on the men’s side of the room. He expected other family heads would gather around him, as they often did, but Nathanael was the first to take his seat across from Christian. He spoke little, which did not surprise Christian, but Christian did catch Nathanael smiling at some of the banter around him.

But more than anything, Christian saw where Nathan’s eyes drifted.

To the women’s side of the room.

To Magdalena.

He seemed to follow her every movement, causing Christian to do the same. She had become a lovely woman, even if she had refused to marry.

Nathanael’s bass voice startled Christian. “Brother Byler, I wonder if Magdalena is going to the singing tonight.”

Christian broke a piece of bread before answering. “She seldom goes. She is mindful of her age, I think.” Since she had decided not to marry, she saw little purpose in the singings.

The light in Nathanael’s eyes flickered. Before it sputtered out, Christian said, “Perhaps if she had an invitation…”

Nathanael nodded and turned his eyes again to Magdalena.

Jacob stood at The top of the hill on the fine Sunday afternoon. He was born on this land. All his children were born on this land—so far. As soon as Katie said the words aloud, they both knew they wanted to go. The new babe could be born in North Carolina.

The land was rich with much to offer. Irish Creek ran right through it. Over the years more than a hundred acres were cleared for farming, and dozens more awaited the ambitious effort of taming forest. His tannery was well-positioned, and the vats were large. Houses, barns, stables, gardens, outbuildings. Yes, the land would find appeal to many prospective buyers. But this land had been the dream his father carried from Europe close to half a century ago. Jacob’s dream was North Carolina.

If the land sold quickly, they might yet move to North Carolina before the year was out. As long as they could begin the journey before a blinding snow, they could creep south away from the threat of severe weather that might bind them for the winter.

He would find land on the coast and they could drink in the ocean’s beauty whenever they wished, with its spray misting across their faces. Or he would find land with saltpeter hidden under its undulating beauty and have a sure supply of the key ingredient for his powder.

First, Jacob had to wait and see if any of his brothers would straggle home from the still dismantling war. David might still want to move to North Carolina with them. But Jacob could not abandon the families of Joseph and John before their return. Joseph had made captain not long ago, so he might yet have responsibilities to discharge. Their wives had received no official notifications. If the brothers were at the final battle at Yorktown, though, painful news might still come.