River of Mercy (44 page)

But that was the problem. He was forbidden to comfort her or to love her.

What a dilemma for a man like Gant. What a dilemma for any man. Didn't he know as much from his own experience?

“You're sure she's all right?” Gant said.

“Well, she's still a bit unsettled, given everything that's happened. At first, she was feeling somewhat responsible for Beiler's being placed under the
Bann
, which was ridiculous of course. Anyway, after she learned the rest of the facts—his cruelty to his wife and sons, his abuse of his authority as bishop, and his blatant bad behavior in some of his dealings with the People—I believe by now she's accepted that he had to be shunned and that it was none of her doing at all.”

“Aye, I've got all that. Gideon was pretty thorough with the gritty details,” Gant said with a look of disgust. “Can I see her now?”

“Just a moment,” David cautioned. “There's something else I think you should know.”

Gant frowned, obviously impatient.

“I don't know exactly what she told Susan, but it seems she's still shouldering some guilt about you.”

“About me?” Gant's expression of impatience changed to that of confused hurt. “What
about
me?”

David hesitated, at a bit of a loss as to how to explain. “Apparently, Beiler's accusations that she'd…that she'd behaved wrongfully with you… well, it gave her pause.” He hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “I don't mean to imply anything. As I said, I don't really know what she told Susan, and Susan was quick to assure me that the concerns Rachel is fretting about aren't all that…questionable. Even so, Beiler's harangue is still troubling her.”

Gant's face had gone crimson. “Doc, I promise you we never…there was never anything improper between us.” He broke off, his mouth tightening. “Maybe Gideon didn't tell me everything. Doc, surely you know I would never compromise Rachel. I know what kind of woman she is. I couldn't respect her more—”

David waved off his friend's fierce protest. “And I know what kind of man you are. I know you wouldn't do anything to harm Rachel in any way. But you have to understand that the Amish don't believe in even sharing an embrace or a kiss—not that I'm saying you did—unless a couple is at least engaged. And even then, things are supposed to be kept very chaste.”

Gant looked at him. “Are you going to tell me you never kissed Susan before you were engaged?” His expression was openly skeptical.

David now felt a flush creep up his own face. “I'm not going to tell you anything other than how Rachel seems to be feeling…according to Susan.” He cleared his throat. “So when you do talk with her, keep your distance or she's likely to react.”

“I understand.
Now
can I see her?”

Rachel walked into the living room slowly, even uncertainly, as if she almost dreaded their meeting. Gant drank in the sight of her, troubled by the signs of fatigue, the shadows smudging her eyes, and the way she averted her gaze.

“Rachel,” he said, keeping his voice as soft as he could manage. “I just…I wanted to make sure you're all right.”

Still avoiding his gaze, she nodded.
“Ja,
I'm fine.”

“Is there anything you need, anything I can do?”

She shook her head slightly. “I'm all right, really.”

He discovered that now that he was here, he didn't know what to say. “I hope it's all right…that I came.”

She turned a hand in a vague gesture of reply. “I…suppose so. But we can't really be alone together anymore. It's not right.”

“I was worried about you—”

“Don't be,” she said, her tone unexpectedly sharp.

“Rachel…”

Something in his tone of voice apparently made her finally turn and look at him. He saw her expression soften, but her eyes held a wounded glaze that cut to the core of him.

“Jeremiah,” she said softly, “I don't think we should talk right now. I'm sorry, but I just…can't. I need time. There are some things I need to think about.”

Gant saw the slight trembling of her hands, the drawn lines about her mouth, and the weakness shuddering through her. It occurred to him that she probably hadn't slept at all the night before.

“Rachel, you and I…we haven't done anything wrong. No matter what Beiler may have said to you, what we've shared has never been wrong. We couldn't help loving each other.”

He saw her flinch and for just an instant squeeze her eyes shut.

He realized then that he was only making an already difficult situation harder for her. He ached to hold her but knew he couldn't. He wanted to stay with her, at least long enough to comfort her, but that wasn't possible either.

Reluctantly, he made the decision that seemed to be best for her. “I'll go now, Rachel,” he said, lowering his voice and keeping his tone as gentle as possible. “I'll come back…later. Please, just get some rest. Will you do that?”

She glanced away but nodded.

“Rachel? One thing…”

She looked at him.

“You'll stay here, won't you, with Susan and Doc…for now? You won't stay alone?”

She studied him and then actually managed a faint smile that brought a sudden surge of warmth to his heart. “Yes, Jeremiah. I'm staying here for a while. I'll be all right. I'll be safe here.”

“Please, God,”
he prayed as he left the house,
“please, let her be safe… here and anywhere she happens to be.
”

43

Home is where our family lives and love abides.

ANONYMOUS

A
week later, both Doc and Gideon informed Gant that according to all accounts, Samuel Beiler was gone, not only from the Plain community but from the Riverhaven area itself.

The three of them stood talking in the shop in the middle of the morning. “Does anyone know where he went?” Gant asked.

“Nobody seems to,” replied Gideon.

“Not even his sister?”

“Nope. He just took up and left, according to Malachi.” Gideon pulled a sour face. “And good riddance, I say.”

“Don't forget the point of shunning, son,” Doc put in. “It's not to punish. It's done for the good of the person shunned and to protect the church.”

“I still don't understand that,” Gant said.

“Hopefully, it will help the one being shunned to see the error of his ways and change those ways,” Doc explained. “Being cast away from the flock, so to speak, is a very difficult and painful situation for an Amish person. It's hard for those outside the faith to understand, but it really is done in hopes of bringing about repentance and restoration, as well as to keep the body of believers pure.”

Gant shook his head. “For a man like Beiler, this must be about the worst thing that could happen to him.”

Gideon still looked skeptical. “I wonder. Old Sam always struck me as too bigheaded to be bothered about anything.”

“Well, let's hope you're wrong,” Doc said. “We would want to think that no one is beyond repentance and forgiveness.”

“But I heard Beiler refused to accept the
Bann,
that he just left. No one seems to know where he went or if he's coming back.”

“There's no acceptance or nonacceptance to the
Bann,”
Doc replied. “It is what it is, and for someone to say they don't accept it doesn't make any difference. A person is shunned and that's all there is to it unless he repents and comes back to his faith and the church.”

“So what about Beiler's sons?” Gant asked.

“They wouldn't go with him,” Gideon put in. “Reuben Esch told me they're out at Samuel's sister's place. At least for now, they're staying with her.”

After Doc left and Gideon took off with the day's deliveries, Gant sat at the table in the back room for a long time, thinking. He couldn't help but remember that this shunning practice was exactly what Beiler had threatened Rachel with unless she agreed to marry him.

He cringed at the very thought. He knew Rachel well enough to know that for her to be cast away from her entire family, her friends, and her church would have absolutely devastated her. In his warped, conniving way, Beiler had come up with the very thing he figured just might coerce her into marrying him.

That the man had sunk that low still enraged him. The very fact that Beiler had threatened Rachel made Gant want to trounce him.

Some Amish man
he
would make.

In that instant it occurred to Gant that he'd better start working on that potential for violence just in case the next bishop, whoever he happened to be, might have a more open mind about allowing him to convert.

Did he still hold out any real hope for that possibility? And if he did, did he actually believe he could ever become the man he would need to be—a man who could live with the pacifist and nonviolent beliefs of the Amish? Could he ever become the man Rachel would want him to be, the man she deserved?

Only God knew the answer to that. But Gant was certain that if he was given the opportunity, he would try.

When he'd been talking with Doc and Gideon, he had also realized that even though Beiler was now gone from the area, he still felt a sense of unease that something wasn't quite right. He found it hard to believe that a man like Beiler would go off just like that and leave behind his sons, his land, and all his possessions. After all, according to Doc, he didn't have to leave the area. He was banned from the church and fellowship with the People, but he didn't actually have to go away.

So why did he? Pride, maybe? An unwillingness to submit to being shunned? That seemed to be the only thing that made sense. The strong sense of pride and arrogance that had always appeared to be inherent to Beiler's character might be the only way to account for his swift exit from the Amish community.

Even so, Gant still felt uneasy.

Or was he just being overly anxious about Rachel? He couldn't forget how fragile she'd looked the last time he'd seen her. He'd worried about her ever since that day. Every protective instinct he had cried out to guard her, to take care of her. Instead, he couldn't even spend an hour alone with her.