Rumspringa's Hope, page 4
Mark scowled at him. “He doesn’t know I’m going. Don’t tell him.”
Zeb didn’t like this situation at all. He wanted Ivan’s full attention concerning Emma, not to deal with rumspringa, of all things. “I’ll make a deal with you. You come in while I talk to your daed, and I’ll help you find Caleb.”
Mark hesitated, and then narrowed his eyes.
“I’m talking to him about Emma, not you.” Zeb grinned, which made Mark smile as well.
“But I don’t want to miss Caleb.”
Zeb was tired of hearing Caleb’s name. Caleb had been here for only two days, and Zeb had heard enough about him already.
“Jah, me too.” He led the way to the haus, taking in the smell of cinnamon rolls and fresh coffee. Emma stood at the sink next to Rebecca and Maria, who was collecting the dirty plates. “It smells mighty good in here.”
“Zeb!” Emma looked surprised. Zeb thought maybe her visit with Caleb would work to his advantage. He smiled and took three strides toward her.
“That coffee smells good.” He nodded once toward the pot on the potbelly stove.
“Would you like some?” She reached for a mug sitting on the Formica counter.
“Jah, to warm up. It’s chilly out there.” He looked around the kitchen but there was no sign of Ivan. “Is your daed around?”
“He’s in the barn.” Zeb could tell from her tight smile that she knew he’d likely seen Caleb leaving, and that it made her uneasy. But Zeb knew she wouldn’t do anything to upset him. He treated her too well. She had to know he had plans for them to have a life together.
“I’ll go out and help him.” He tapped Emma under the chin with a finger, and Rebecca handed him a cup of coffee as he left the kitchen. He stepped onto the porch to take a sip and looked over the Millers’ farm. Theirs was one of the biggest in the community, with fields both in front and behind the house that went on farther than the eye could see. Ivan was well-respected, giving wise advice when others had problems with their crops. He was a serious man, strict and a rule follower, showing little emotion.
Zeb blew on the hot coffee, letting the aroma fill his nostrils. He thought about rumspringa and how the last couple of years hadn’t been such a production. Ever since the incident with Caleb a while back it seemed to slow down a bit. But this year a larger group planned to go. Caleb’s presence seemed to generate greater interest. The deacons had to be concerned with him here again. Zeb should know. His daed was one of them.
When he walked into the barn, Ivan was sitting on a three-legged milking stool, his arms and legs crossed. “Zeb, take a seat,” he said without looking up.
Zeb grabbed a steel bucket, turned it over, and sat next to him. “What’s on your mind?”
“It’s you that has something to say.”
“How’d you know?”
“You’re an ambitious young man. Ambitious people always have something to say.” Ivan slowly lifted his head, finally looking Zeb in the eyes. Ivan’s face didn’t change expression, making it even harder to tell what he was thinking. Ivan spoke his mind, but Zeb had learned not to take what he said personally. “A couple of things, actually.”
Ivan made a rumbling sound in his throat and lifted his eyes to Zeb.
“Spring will be here before we know it, so I want to get started building another haus. My mamm and daed can move into the old one, and there would be one for Merv when he’s ready to wed.”
Ivan nodded slightly.
“There’s a five-acre parcel I’ve got my eye on. Close to here but far enough for some privacy.” Zeb felt the approval of his choice of land before Ivan said a word.
“Is there a reason you’re telling me this?” His chin was tucked down, and his eyes rose to look straight at him. He was an intense man, so Zeb didn’t think much of his intimating mannerisms.
“Just don’t want anything to get in the way is all.”
Ivan knew exactly what he meant. Zeb’s haus would be for him and Emma.
“Is that all you want?” Ivan had tipped his head down when a rush of cold air surged through the barn.
“Jah…” He couldn’t help but meet his eyes. As much as Ivan appeared not to notice what went on, he always seemed to know more than people realized.
“Gut, because that’s all you’ll get.” He didn’t move or even blink.
Zeb wasn’t sure what Ivan meant by the remark. It didn’t sit well with him that Ivan gave such a vague response. Ivan was even more mysterious than usual. But it came down to Emma, and her mamm wanted her married as much as Zeb wanted to marry her. He stood and hung the bucket back up on a nail. “Need any help in here?” He looked around, trying to figure out what Ivan was doing.
“Nee. Thanks for the offer, just the same.” He tightened his arms around his chest, and remained like a statue, so Zeb turned to leave.
“You do right by her.”
Zeb stopped midway in his attempt to turn around and looked back at Ivan. “Of course I will.” If Zeb didn’t know Ivan’s ways, he might be offended, but his request wasn’t all that surprising. He waited to see whether Ivan had anything else to say, but the man only stared, unmoving. “Is there anything else?” Zeb finally asked.
“Nee.” Ivan’s lips didn’t move, but Zeb heard the word.
As Zeb strode away, he decided to chalk it up to a daed losing his oldest child to start a life on her own. Although it was what every parent wanted, it had to be difficult to let go. In thinking back, he noticed this conversation probably wasn’t much different than any others he’d had with the man.
Zeb walked by the house to see Emma before going home for chores but didn’t see any sign of her. He was about to go inside when he noticed an unattended laundry basket and a few scattered items of clothes on the line. As he peered around the corner of the haus, he saw Emma sitting on a concrete step with her eyes closed, moving back and forth for warmth.
“Aren’t you cold out here?” Zeb asked.
She started at the sound of his voice, her brown eyes now wide open. “I’m okay.” She moved over so he could sit next to her. “What were you and Daed talking about?”
“The weather.” He grinned to let her know it was all good without giving anything away. “Were you resting or praying?”
“Both.”
“A prayer of thanksgiving or a heavy heart?”
She looked up at the blue sky with a few billowy clouds floating by. “It’s Mark.”
He nodded. “Rumspringa?”
She turned to him. “He told you?”
“Jah, he wants to see Caleb. I told him to wait to talk to Ivan. He’s probably forgotten about it by now.”
She pushed brown ringlets of hair away from her eyes. “He’s going. No matter what my parents do or say. He’s set on it.” Emma dropped her hands between her knees.
“He probably just wants to be like all the others who are going.” He let out a long breath. “Planting season will be coming around soon. Your folks would miss him helping out.”
“Jah, I’ve thought about that too. But if it comes down to him really leaving, there’s only one thing left to do.”
He couldn’t think of a good solution and figured they’d have to leave it up to Caleb as to what to do. “What’s that?”
“I’ll go with him.”
Chapter Six
Emma reclaimed the abandoned laundry basket and sat back down on the porch, giving Zeb time to soak in what she’d said. She knew he wouldn’t like her idea. No one would. But ever since Caleb had come back, her desire to evangelize had begun to grow.
Zeb looked at her and frowned. “For a minute there I thought you were serious.”
Emma kept her hands busy folding clothes.
“I am serious.” She looked away, not wanting to see his expression.
Zeb shook his head. “This is getting out of hand. Too many are going.”
That might be true, but she felt responsible for Mark, who seemed so unpredictable. Going with Mark would also give her a chance to see what Caleb’s world was like and meet some of the people he helped.
She felt warmth on her arm. “You look so worried.” Zeb moved his hand up toward her shoulder. When he began to finger the curls that had escaped her bun, she moved away.
He pursed his lips in the same gesture he made every time she shied away. “I wish I could help you with this, Emma. But it makes no sense to me that you would go. You’re needed here as well.”
Who did he think needed her—her mamm and daed or him? “I wish Mark would get it out of his system.”
He scoffed. “It might be good for him to go. The culture shock alone might bring him home a changed young man.” His nostrils flared, and he turned away.
This was bothering him more than Emma expected. She was uncomfortable with him knowing these things about her family, but he needed to understand why she felt the way she did, and what she was up against. He didn’t have to deal with a raging adolescent young man.
“I hope so.” She glanced at her daed coming out of the barn. She shouldn’t have told Zeb about this. She didn’t want him involved.
“I’m glad you talked with me about it. There is no need to worry. Things will settle down, and when it’s time for Caleb, he’ll probably stay put.” Zeb grinned.
As she stared into his eyes, she wondered whether he was more worried about Caleb than her family. But then she might feel the same if he was going away with an old flame. “You’re probably right.”
“You worry too much.” He draped his arm over her shoulders and steered her toward the haus.
“I have more burdens to bear than you do.” When she heard herself say the words, she bit her tongue. “I don’t mean to complain. There are many with more to deal with than me.”
“Jah, you do. You have your coughing spells. I’m sure your parents and Doc would be surprised to find out they’ve been coming so often lately.”
“What?” Her head started swimming. She didn’t know why she had so many coughing fits when she was around him. But Zeb knew she wouldn’t want to worry her mamm and daed. Would he be so bold as to make them think she was sick and shouldn’t leave?
“You’re frustrated and concerned. That’s understandable.” He drew her in close to his chest, but she didn’t find comfort in his arms. He pacified her like a child. “It’ll all work out. You’ll see.”
She pulled away. “Jah, I suppose you’re right. I’ll see you later, then.”
As he turned to walk down the dirt road leading away from her haus, she watched him go, a slight swagger radiating confidence. She wanted time alone to finish her chores early so she would have the entire afternoon to work on the quilt she wanted to sell at the festival.
As she entered the haus, the sound of her mamm humming drifted from the kitchen. It was a rare thing to hear, but as Emma turned the corner, her mamm fell silent. Emma studied her mamm’s gentle smile. “Mamm?”
Her mamm moved closer and put a hand to Emma’s cheek. “Do you have something to share with me?” Mamm asked.
“Nee, why?”
“Your daed said Zeb had a talk with him,” Mamm said.
Emma thought her mamm had given up on her marrying. But looking at her now, Emma could see she hadn’t.
“Ach, did I speak too soon?” Mamm put a hand to her chest and let out a laugh. “Your daed would be so excited.”
Emma couldn’t imagine that excited was the best word to describe what her daed felt. But she was sure he would be grateful to have her off on her own. “Jah, there is nothing to tell.”
“I was mistaken then.” Her cheeks were light pink, and Emma felt a tinge of guilt that she as wasn’t as excited as her mamm.
Emma was curious as to what exactly Zeb had said to her daed. When she looked into her mamm’s face, Emma wished she could have told her something more. “I’m sorry, Mamm.”
Mamm patted her cheek again and sighed. “Don’t wait too long.”
The back door slammed shut, causing Mamm to jump. Mark came bounding into the room and looked around. “Where’s Zeb?” His eyes were dark and wild, narrowing in on Emma.
“He already left.” Emma lifted up her palms to show him as well as tell him that was all the information she had.
“Why would he do that?” He pointed at Mamm. “Did you tell him to leave?” His voice rose to an annoying level.
Mamm shook her head. “Nee, son.” Emma’s first instinct was to tell him to calm down, but Mamm thought of another idea. “If you go now, you could still catch him.”
Emma didn’t know why Mamm was encouraging him, other than the fact that she didn’t want a fuss.
Mark closed his eyes, his demeanor changing by the moment. “If he wanted me to come with him, he would have waited.” The emotional whiplash from outbursts drained him. But at the moment he seemed more sad than angry. When he sulked, it was even more stressful than the expressive outbursts. Emma went from loathing his behavior to feeling sorry for him.
“Did you remember about the festival?” Mamm said. Distracting Mark sometimes worked. He was diffusing and switching gears. Emma could almost see the transformation. The festival was only once a year and they all looked forward to it. It was sure to lift his spirits if they talked about it.
“Jah, but now I started thinking about this.”
“Let’s talk about the festival,” Mamm said.
“Will Zeb be there?”
“I wouldn’t think he would miss the festival,” Emma answered with a soft tone.
Mark nodded. “He missed me.” He turned away, walking toward the stairs.
“Not on purpose, son.” Mamm’s voice seemed to calm him a little. “Why don’t you finish up the table you’ve been making? Then you can sell it at the festival.”
He paused and turned around. “Maybe later.”
As upset as Emma got with him, she could understand why he was so rebellious. Mark couldn’t rationalize his emotions or anyone else’s. There were other young men who were trying their families’ patience, so they weren’t alone. She tried to remember that, but it wasn’t always easy.
Mark balled his hands into fists and marched upstairs. The pounding of each foot resonated in Emma’s ears. Maybe that was best. Let him settle down alone for a while. He wouldn’t listen to reason when he got into his solitary moods, so some down time might be good for him.
Emma went into the kitchen. Not that there was a meal to make. She just needed to do something to keep busy. When the back door squeaked open, Emma looked over the island in the middle of the kitchen to find out who it was, but all she could see was a little white kapp with blonde wisps sticking out. “Maria?”
“Nee?”
“Martha?”
“Jah. You’re not supposed to see me.” Two little blue eyes barely peeked over the top of the counter.
“Why is that?” Emma looked away but could still feel the two little eyes staring at her.
“I dirtied my dress.” Martha’s soft voice could barely be heard.
“Well, take it off and put it in the laundry.” Emma was curious as to how badly it was soiled, so she went over to look at it. The dress was covered with dripping mud. The trail started at the mudroom and continued on into the kitchen where Martha stood.
“What in heaven’s name were you doing?” Emma asked as she guided Martha back to the mud room. After Martha took off the filthy dress, Emma took it out the back door to hose it down. Martha stood at the door watching her sister rinse off her dress, baffled as to how she could make such a mess of herself.
After Emma finished and came back inside, she wrapped Martha up in a towel and had her sit by the fire in the living room until she warmed up. Emma sat on the hearth and looked at her sister. “Tell me again what you were doing.”
Martha looked at Mamm, who glanced at Emma and then spoke. “Mark told me about hog wrestling.”
Emma’s eyebrows went up, guessing the rest of the story. “Ach, nee. You didn’t.”
Martha giggled, and then Emma started in. Maria tried to stifle her laughter, but soon she was laughing too.
“Jah, but when I got into Molly’s pen, she looked too big, so I tried to catch the littler ones. But they were too fast.” Martha brought the story to an end. “So I decided to wait until spring when the babies come out.”
Emma shook her head and then couldn’t help but laugh as she imagined the scene…until she realized that it wasn’t just mud she had cleaned off Martha’s dress.
Chapter Seven
Caleb hated to be in the middle of family affairs, but the position Gott had placed him in called for exactly that. He’d left the community on rumspringa and had not come back, not because he wanted to live the English life, but because he wanted to guide teenagers when they were in the big city.
So many had aspirations to experience Philadelphia, others wanted to live there, but Caleb had learned the hard way that Philly wasn’t what the Amish expected it to be. It could trick and consume a person. He’d seen many fall into harm’s way. Some floundered. Most made it back home, but others didn’t fare as well. They’d fallen into what he called Satan’s playground.
Someone near and dear to him had gotten caught in the evil one’s trickery, and Caleb would never forgive himself for not doing more to prevent it. If he ever did accept forgiveness, he might finally go home again. If they’d take him back.
But the situation with the Millers was personal. He’d spent too much time there growing up not to have a strong bias toward the family. He’d always had a soft spot for Mark. But then he was easier to manage as a kid. His demeanor was changing as he got older.
Ivan and Rebecca were older parents and figured time would balance things out. From what Caleb had seen in the city, he thought maybe Mark had some mental health issues—something a doctor could help with—but the Amish were leery about using medication for such matters.
“Caleb.” Maria’s ragged voice came up from behind him as she ran down the road toward his family’s farm.
His head jerked up. “Mornin’, Maria.”
“I’ve been looking for you.” Her weak smile told him something was bothering her. She pushed back the long strands of hair that dangled against her shoulder and caught her breath.
