Plain Peace (A Daughters of the Promise Novel) (26 page)

“
Ya
, I heard you. And I yelled back, asking for someone to help me, but no one came. I even shined the flashlight I was using, but I guess you didn’t see it. I was pretty far out.” She put the kitten down on the couch. “I couldn’t sleep because I kept hearing a faint crying, so finally I got up to see what it was. After a while, I realized that the sound was coming from back behind the
haus
in the back pasture, so I went out to investigate.”

She leaned down and stroked the kitten’s head before he darted off the couch and across the room. “This little fellow was caught in your coyote trap. But I don’t think he was in there too long before I found him.” She shook her head, frowning. “You know I don’t like those traps, Isaac.”

“
Ya
, well . . . you don’t like them coyotes killing the cows either.”

“Anyway . . .”
Mammi
brushed cat hair from her blue robe. “I could hear you yelling, and I yelled back, but I guess since I was on the other side of the
haus
with the wind blowing to the south, you didn’t hear me.” She raised her eyebrows and pressed her thin lips together when she saw the mobile phone in Anna’s hand.

“I was just getting ready to call for help.” Anna lifted the phone.

“
Ya
, and we will speak in the morning about why you have this portable phone,” her grandfather said in a gruff voice.

“Isaac, about the phone . . .” Her grandmother scratched her cheek.

“Let’s go to bed,
Mammi. Daadi
said we’ll talk in the morning.” Anna linked her arm through her grandmother’s and led her to the bedroom.

“What about this cat?” her grandfather bellowed.

Anna turned around and saw him staring at the kitten, hands on his hips. “Just put him outside,
Daadi
. If he’s still there in the
morning, I’ll tend to him.” She kept walking with her grandmother until they were all the way into the bedroom.

“You went down to the basement.”
Mammi
scowled.

Anna helped her grandmother out of her robe and into bed. “Tomorrow we will be talking about more than just this phone.”

C
ORA GOT OUT OF HER BUGGY AT
M
ARIANNE
’
S, TETHERED
her horse, and stood staring at her friend’s house, wondering if she could trust Marianne to keep her secret. She couldn’t talk to her children, and there was no way she was going to talk to her husband.

She shuffled to the porch and walked up the steps. While she waited for Marianne to answer, she counted in her head. It had been weeks since she’d spent any significant time with her friend apart from brief hellos at church. This past Sunday they hadn’t even had that.

“Cora,
wie bischt?
I’ve missed you. I was going to check on you folks when none of you were at worship on Sunday.” Marianne stepped aside and motioned for Cora to come in. “Have you been ill? Is one of the
kinner
sick?”

Cora shook her head. “
Nee
. I just wasn’t feeling well, and after some arguing, I gave in and told the children they could stay home as well. John had already said he wasn’t going.” She hung her head for a moment. “
Mei
family played hooky, I guess.”

“I won’t tell.” Marianne grinned as she gently put a hand on Cora’s arm. “Come with me to the kitchen. I have a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies in the oven that I’m bound to forget about if I’m not nearby.”

“Those are John’s favorite,” Cora mumbled as she followed Marianne into the hot kitchen and pulled out a chair from the kitchen table.

“We will send him some home, then.” Marianne turned to face her, still smiling. Cora knew that’s why she liked coming here. Marianne always seemed happy. She was married to the gruffest man around, yet her demeanor was always one of good cheer.

“I don’t think John deserves any cookies,” Cora said, then chuckled. “I know. That’s awful of me to say.”

Marianne pulled a pan of cookies from the oven and put them on a cooling rack before joining Cora at the table. “Then maybe we will send him just
one
. You know . . . to torture him.”

Cora chuckled. It felt good to laugh a little. “
Ya
, we should do that.”

“I’m glad you came by. I’ve missed our visits.” Marianne eased herself down into a chair, then locked her hands together atop the table and leaned toward Cora. “And I wanted to talk to you about Lucy Turner.”

Cora should have suspected this, but she’d been preoccupied with other matters. She waited for her friend to go on.

“It took a lot for Lucy to tell you the truth about . . . about her situation. The girl really seems to be trying to make a
gut
life for her and Benjamin.”

Cora humphed. “She’s hardly a
girl
. I’m guessing she’s in her midthirties. And she knew what she was doing when she seduced another woman’s husband.” Cora swallowed hard. Though John’s infidelity had occurred years ago, recollections of it were still fresh in her mind.

Marianne chewed her bottom lip. “You don’t know that’s how it happened, Cora. Maybe Ivan pursued her.”

Cora shrugged. “Does it really matter?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But Cora . . .” Marianne reached over and touched her hand. “You know it’s not our place to judge. And before you knew about this, you and Lucy were becoming
gut
friends. I think Lucy needs friends. It sounds like she has her hands full trying to take care of her
mudder
.”

“That’s all fine and
gut
. But it’s not my job to minister to an
Englisch
woman, someone who’s clearly used bad judgment in the past. That doesn’t mean I’m judging her. Only God can do that.”

“Exactly.”

They were quiet for a few moments before Cora spoke up again. This wasn’t the conversation she wanted to have with Marianne. But her friend had managed to make her feel guilty—and for what? “I think you’re judging me because you think I’m judging Lucy.”

Marianne didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow.

“I’m free to choose who I want to be friends with.” Cora lifted her chin.

“
Ya
. You are.”

Cora slouched back in the chair. Despite her resolve, she was blinking back tears.

“Maybe you should give Lucy another chance. Seems a shame to just disregard the friendship so easily.”

Cora squeezed her eyes shut, then sniffled as she opened them. “Look, I didn’t come here to talk about Lucy. I—I have something else on my mind, and . . .” She put her elbows on the table and rested her forehead in her hands.

“What is it, dear?” Marianne’s voice was soft and sympathetic, as Cora knew it would be.

Might as well spit it out
. “I’m pregnant.” Cora shook her head. “I’m forty-three years old. I have six—five—
kinner
, and now I’m pregnant again.”

Marianne’s eyes lit up. “Oh my. I didn’t realize that you and your husband, uh . . . I mean, I thought you were having so many problems . . . But, Cora, this is good news. A—”

“I don’t want this
boppli
.” Cora almost jumped as she heard the words clip across her tongue. Until now, she’d never said aloud what she was feeling. “A
boppli
cannot replace Leah. And as for John . . .” She took a deep breath. “Nothing has changed. It was one time. Just that one time, and . . .” She leaned her head back on her shoulders as she felt a headache brewing. Had she really expected any other reaction from Marianne?

“Of course you want the
boppli
.” Marianne smiled. “But you weren’t expecting this, so it has caught you off guard. Have you told John?”

Cora shook her head. Marianne was wrong, but why bother arguing? “
Nee
, I haven’t told him.”

“Honey, I know this little one won’t replace Leah—of course not. But a child is such a gift, and the Lord has seen fit to bless you with another one. You must share this news with your husband. Maybe it will ease his suffering in some way.”

Cora didn’t care about John’s suffering at the moment. She flattened her palms across her belly, knowing what was ahead for her. The morning sickness, the weariness and mood swings, the difficulty of being pregnant at her age. And then, to bring an infant child into their sad, lonely house—she didn’t think she
could bear it. But Marianne wasn’t going to understand that, so Cora changed the subject.

“I have something else to talk to you about. I don’t want to get Anna in trouble, but Jacob told me he and Anna eat lunch together most days.”

Marianne shifted her weight in the chair, then folded her hands in front of her again. “Anna hasn’t said anything, but I figured she was seeing Jacob while she was on her route.”

“Well, I think it’s a shame those two can’t spend more time together. Jacob seems to care about Anna a great deal. Have you had any luck talking to your husband?”

“Not yet. But I’m sure he will come around.”

“You keep saying that, Marianne. But when? Jacob is a fine boy. He would make a
gut
husband. Your husband isn’t giving him a chance.”

“I will talk to Isaac again.” Marianne pulled her eyes from Cora’s, and Cora didn’t think she would talk to her husband at all. Cora felt anger building—about Lucy Turner, John, the pregnancy, the bishop’s strict ways. About everything. It was time to leave before she said something that would cost her the only real friend she’d made since she moved here.

“I better go.” She stood up and smoothed the wrinkles from her apron. “I just came to tell you about the
boppli
. And about Jacob and Anna. I really hope you can do something to convince Bishop Byler to allow them to date.”

Marianne stood too and touched her on the arm. “I will talk to him, I promise. And, Cora . . . I will be praying for you and your little one. This pregnancy really is a gift. You will see that when you adjust to the idea.”

I hope so
. Cora summoned a weak smile. “I will see you soon.”

Marianne followed Cora through the living room to the front door. “I’m having Lucy and Benjamin over on Thursday for lunch. It’s Lucy’s day off. I’d like for you to come too.” Marianne smiled. “That little Benjamin just brightens any room he’s in.”

Cora tensed. “Thursday isn’t
gut
for me, Marianne. But
danki
for asking.” She walked out the front door without looking back. Marianne was wonderful, but if her new friend was going to keep meeting with Lucy, Cora needed to pull back from her friendship with Marianne.

Cora had no intention of being friends with an adulterous woman. And she couldn’t believe Marianne was pushing for it.

Marianne’s heart filled with sadness as she watched Cora head down the driveway. She’d been polite enough, but Marianne could see the tension in her face and hear the discord in her voice.
The woman needs her husband
.

As for Lucy, she couldn’t force Cora to accept the younger woman. And Marianne certainly didn’t condone what Lucy had done, but something deep within tugged at Marianne to help her. Marianne had always believed that when the Lord calls on us, we have to respond. And she’d meant what she said about Benjamin. There was nothing like a child to brighten a room, and Marianne missed having little ones around the house. She couldn’t wait for great-grandchildren.

That thought brought Anna and Jacob to mind. She was going to have to do something extreme to get Isaac to loosen up before
he ran everyone in their district off—but mostly before he pushed Anna away.

It was all too much to think about this early in the morning, so Marianne decided to seek comfort the only way she knew how these days. She headed to the basement, savoring the underground coolness, and unlocked her special room.

She’d confessed to Isaac about the cell phone, saying she kept it only for emergencies, and so far he hadn’t pressured her to give it up. But he still didn’t know anything about the other items in the basement room, and Anna hadn’t told him. She and Marianne seemed to have fallen into a kind of unspoken agreement—
I won’t tell on you if you won’t tell on me
. Marianne had been pretty sure that Anna was seeing Jacob. Otherwise, she would have been pushing harder to get Isaac to relent. Instead, apparently, the girl had taken matters into her own hands. Marianne couldn’t really blame her.

She glanced around at all her things, knowing she wasn’t in a position to judge anyone about deception. As she sank down in her comfy chair, she eyed all the boxes, one in particular. There was no reason in the world for her to have a box full of jewelry that she was never going to wear.
I’m such a silly old woman
.

She shook her head as she retrieved the box and placed it in her lap. She fingered through the necklaces, earrings, and bracelets. Some of the items had cost a considerable amount of money. She probably had thousands of dollars’ worth of jewelry in here—all because she’d needed to feel somehow in control of her own life.

But harboring such luxuries was weighing more and more heavily on Marianne these days. While many of the things she’d collected would look lovely around her home—dishes, curtains,
knickknacks—so many others had been a total waste of money, not to mention setting up a habit of deception.