The Photograph (25 page)

“Jury duty?” Abner grimaced and took a slow sip of his coffee.

“
Jah
, I could be asked to serve once I'm a registered voter,” Omar said, fiddling with the spoon near his coffee mug.

“Have ya talked this over with one of the ministerial brethren?” Naomi asked.

“I followed the bishop's urging and spent time fasting and prayin',” Omar said. “I really believe the Lord is directing me to vote.”

Naomi was pleased to hear he had gone ahead and done this, but she was surprised, even disappointed, that he was still moving forward with registering.
We're citizens
of heaven,
she thought.

Abner glanced at Naomi.

“For this election, at least,” Omar continued, “I plan to vote on local ballot issues
 . . .
and possibly in the presidential election.”

Abner set down his coffee mug. “The outcome's not a'tall what I'd hoped for, but I'm glad you've taken time to consider this, Omar. It's important not to let the world direct our behavior
 . . .
or the way we think. You've always been such an upstandin' church member.”

Omar pushed his fingers through his bushy beard. “I know you and Mamm want me to be a
gut
testimony. Ya don't have to worry whatsoever. My wife and nine children are on my mind, as well as my baptismal vow.”

Abner gave him a nod, and Naomi sighed.

“I'll be prayin' for ya,” Naomi said gently. “Like always.” She still didn't understand Omar's fascination with voting, but she was relieved that it seemed to be where his interest in the world ended.
If only the same were true for Lily Esch
 . . .

P
RIOR
TO
THE
SHARED
MEAL
after Preaching, Jed encountered Bettina's young fiancé, Levi Hershberger, out near the stable while the courting-age men waited to be called indoors.

“My cousin Marilyn Halverston might show up ridin' with Bettina and me tonight after Singing, if you're interested,” Levi said, his hands stuffed deep in his trouser pockets.

Marilyn Halverston? Jed was surprised. Marilyn was an exceptionally pretty girl, sweet spirited and soft-spoken, but her beau had gotten into some trouble, left the church, and been shunned.

“Marilyn doesn't have any expectations at all—she knows you've been through a rough patch, too,” Levi continued. “It'd strictly be a favor to me and Bettina.”

“A favor, you say?” Reluctantly, Jed agreed to the double date. “Just this once, though.” He laughed a little. “Guess it's one way for me to keep an eye on you and my spunky sister.”

Levi's eyes narrowed, and then he chuckled as he seemed to realize Jed was joking. “Tell Bettina for me, okay?”

Jed said he would. It wasn't long before
die Youngie
were called
in to eat, and as Jed moved toward the house, he noticed Marilyn and three of her sisters walking together, all wearing pastel blue dresses with white organdy aprons. He caught Marilyn's eye. She gave him a demure smile before looking away.

I hope
I haven't made a mistake,
Jed thought.

A month ago he would have thought nothing of her innocent flirtation, but ever since his visit to Eden Valley, things were different. There was only one smile he longed to see now, and it wasn't Marilyn's.

Jed appreciated the thick shelter of trees as he and Bettina talked after the light meal that Sunday afternoon. They strolled through the well-manicured backyard, heading through the field lanes, where their father's six-mule team moved from one field to the next. Across the way, the neighbor's windmill turned slowly, creaking as the sun poured down on tall meadow grass.

“Daed talked to Levi first, then to his father,” Bettina said with a glance back at the house. “He's convinced Levi is a
gut
man, Jed.”

You'
re still too young,
Jed thought, not wanting to lose his closest sister.

She poked his elbow. “So ya really don't have to worry 'bout me.”

“Just sayin' it doesn't make it true.” He watched the play of emotions on her face; Bettina wore her feelings on her sleeve. All the same, he was determined not to point out that just because Dat thought Levi Hershberger was a good man didn't mean she was ready to be a wife in charge of a farmhouse and, in time, a mother.

Bettina tugged on her white Sunday apron as they walked in the heat of the day. “Both Daed and Mamm are leanin' my way little by little.”

“Like all parents, they want to see you happily married,” he said, knowing she was thoroughly caught up in her love for Levi.

“I
am
happy! Why can't
you
be happy for me?”

They walked without speaking for a moment, and Jed picked up a brittle twig and tossed it.

Bettina folded her hands, keeping up with his pace. “Are you worried maybe because of Lydiann's passing?”

Her expression was soft and respectful. She'd loved Lydiann, too. Everyone had.

“Ain't fair for me to hold you back,” he replied, “just because I've found it hard to move forward.”

“Well, you are, though, whether you like it or not. Levi and I are prayin' for you.”

He smiled. “Maybe it's working.”

“What do ya mean?”

He hesitated. “Well
 . . .”

“Well?”

He plunged ahead. “If ya must know, I met a girl in Lancaster County.”

“Honestly?” Bettina stopped walking, her face beaming. “What's her name?”

“Eva Esch.”

“And you like her?”

He breathed deeply of the warm air. “I think so.”

“You're not
sure
?”

“Well
 . . .
she's compassionate and expressive, but not
too
chatty. She's really smart and—”

“And is she perty?”

He paused, embarrassed. “
Jah.
”

“You have to think about it?”

“
Nee
.
Ain't that.”

Her eyes were wide. “Jed, this is great news. And you know why, too.”

“I s'pose it means I'm ready to let go of the past.”

“So,” she said, “I have to ask: Why'd you agree to double-date with Levi and me tonight? Aren't you goin' to court this Eva from afar
 . . .
write to her?”

“I doubt she'd agree to it.” He shook his head. “Things went sour between us right before I left to come home.”

“Sour? What happened?”

“A misunderstanding.” Jed shrugged.

“But still, if she's someone special
 . . .”

“
Jah
, she was.”

“Was?” Bettina shook her head and turned to fall into step with him as they began walking again. “You can't just ignore this, can ya, Jed?”

He thought of the book and the photo, and of meeting Eva, who had been understandably distracted with Lily's disappearance. Even now, he recalled the look of heartache when Eva had realized the truth—when
he
had realized it—that he'd been carrying around a picture of her missing sister all along. Things had been so muddled up in his mind.

“Trust me, it's not fixable. Eva doesn't have a very high opinion of me anymore.”

“Everything's fixable!” Bettina blew out a breath. “Honestly, sometimes it wonders me if some men are just
Dummkopps
!”

Jed laughed. “But you still love me, ain't?”

“You're my brother. I
have
to, according to Scripture
.
”

“That's the only reason?”

“
Jah.
”

He folded his arms and puffed out his cheeks, and she giggled. He reached for a branch overhead and pulled off a leaf, tossing it at her.

“Seriously, Jed, is there anything I can do?”

“Prob'ly not.”

“Well, you know that I'm here for ya. Besides, my prayers are like God's little arrows aimed right at your heart!”

He grinned.

“Maybe I could write to your Eva and beg her to forgive you.”

Jed chuckled. “Don't you dare!”

“Well, try to have some fun tonight with us,” Bettina said. “Who knows, maybe Marilyn will be the perfect match.”

I had that once. . . .

Jed contemplated the evening ahead.
I can at least be
friendly.

Jed's pent-up tension on the walk to the barn Singing dissolved as soon as he entered the upper level, where a long line of well-scrubbed young men in white shirts and black suspenders sat on one side of the long table. The young women, ages sixteen through about nineteen, sat on the opposite side, still wearing their best dresses and crisp white aprons from Preaching earlier.

He lifted his voice in unison with the other men. Catching Bettina's eye, he smiled. He envied her rosy glow—surely she looked forward to spending time with Levi, who was as polite to Jed tonight as he was admiring of Bettina.

Jed didn't dare look Marilyn's way, not wanting to make her feel self-conscious.
No
pressure,
he thought while waiting for Perry's younger brother Abe to blow the pitch pipe and lead out in the next song, “Nearer My God to Thee.”

Eva hadn't planned to wander out to the old playhouse at dusk. It wasn't a place she and Lily had typically gone after
daylight hours, but Eva needed some time alone. There were many thoughts in her head, and the steady chirp of crickets soothed her, as did the pretty pink still in the sky.

“Lily hasn't come home, dear Lord,” she whispered, not accustomed to saying her prayers aloud. “Yet Thou art with her always. . . . I believe this with all my heart.”

The truth was Lily's return home looked hopeless, apart from a miracle.

She noticed several white birch trees had been toppled by windstorms last winter. Seeing them felled made her even sadder, and she quickened her pace, carrying her father's large lantern. She had gone to check on the livestock after supper, especially the new calves. She recalled Dat's gentle way with the newborn animals. All her years growing up, she had witnessed his expert help and gentle care during difficult births for not only their cows, but also for one of their horses.

He was nurturing with us, too.

When Eva reached the little shack, she opened the door and stepped inside, having to duck now that she was all grown-up. It struck her as comical that their great-grandfather hadn't considered that his grown daughters might someday want to show their own little girls this place. No doubt they would have had to stoop just as Eva was now.

Looking around, she set down the lantern and felt the urge to sweep out the cobwebs and make the small window shiny and spotless.
In memory of Lily.

“That's silly,” she said right out. “My sister's not dead.”

Just
ferhoodled
 . . .

Eva leaned against the wall, still crouched lest her head bump the low ceiling. There was no need for tears. Even so, she was having one of those moments Dat used to talk about—when something sweet comes to mind, and you want to cherish it for
as long as possible.
Till daily chores and other
things push in, and you forget why your heart was
so tender.

She appreciated that her father's passing was a gift in a sense. His dying first had spared him the terrible pain of losing Mamma.
He loved her
that much,
she thought
. Though poor Mamma had to bear
the sting of Dat's passing.