His Amish Choice Page 4

  Turning toward him, Jakob lifted a hand and rested it on Eli’s shoulder before squeezing gently. “I know it couldn’t have been easy for you to walk away from your familye when you left us, nor any easier for you to return. It took a lot of courage to come back and face your eldre. Now you have a second chance with Lizzie too.”

  Eli blinked, not quite understanding. For the first time since his return, Eli wondered if everyone believed he still wanted to marry Lizzie. After all, none of them knew anything about Shannon. But Lizzie didn’t want him. Her words to him yesterday had indicated loud and clear that she didn’t love him anymore.

  “Facing my eldre was easier than you might think,” Eli said. “They’re both relieved I’m back. But Lizzie is a different story. I think I’ve burned a bridge with her that can never be rebuilt.”

  Jakob nodded. “No doubt she is still angry and hurt that you left, but she’s refused to look at any other man since then. She has a gut, forgiving heart. With time, I’m sure both of you will be able to let go of the past, just as I did.”

  That was just it. Eli didn’t want to let go of Shannon. How could he forget what she had meant to him and the part he’d played in her death? It was his fault she had died, but he didn’t mention that to Jakob.

  With one last smile of encouragement, Jakob turned and joined the other men as they lined up to go inside the spacious barn for their meetings. Eli followed, standing behind Martin Hostetler, who was three years older than him. With auburn hair, a smattering of freckles across his nose and blue eyes that gleamed with merriment, Martin was hardworking and filled with energy. Eli was surprised the man was still single.

  Martin nodded and asked him several questions, but was cut off when they went inside, much to Eli’s relief. His thoughts were filled with turmoil. As they trailed into the barn and took their place opposite the women, he considered Jakob’s words. Yes, it had taken courage to return, and yet it hadn’t been so difficult. Not when he’d been yearning for home—and everything in Denver had reminded him of Shannon, filling him with grief and guilt. But now that he was here, he feared he’d made a mistake. People in his Gmay would expect him to marry. And he couldn’t do that right now. Maybe never. Perhaps he didn’t belong in this world anymore.

  He glanced at Bishop Yoder’s pretty daughters sitting with Lizzie. The young women smiled shyly, then ducked their heads close together in a whispered conversation. Though he’d known most of them before he left, they all looked alike to Eli. Modest, chaste and pretty. With her creamy complexion and stunning eyes, Lizzie stood out among them, like a beacon of light in a sea of fog. Eli knew the Hostetlers and Geingeriches each had a daughter of marriageable age too, but he wasn’t interested. Not in any of them.

  He glanced at Lizzie, who stared straight ahead at the bishop. As the vorsinger called out the first note of the opening song, she opened her mouth and sang in German from the Ausbund, their church hymnal. How ironic that she was the only woman in the room who didn’t seem to be looking at him.

  Someone cleared their throat nearby and he glanced over to find his father’s disapproving frown aimed at him. It didn’t matter that Eli was a grown man. He was unmarried and still living in his father’s household. Trying to refocus his thoughts, Eli joined in with the slow harmony, the words returning to his memory like a dear old friend.

  Almost immediately, the bishop and deacon stood, then disappeared into the tack room to hold the Abrot, a leadership council meeting to discuss church business. While they were gone, the congregation kept singing, with no musical accompaniment. Eli stared at the closed door, trying to clear his mind and relax. Forcing himself not to look at Lizzie again. Attempting to push her from his mind. But it did no good. Again and again, he glanced her way, his thoughts returning to her wounded gaze. She’d made her position perfectly clear when the bishop had asked him to work on her farm. They needn’t discuss the matter further. And yet, Eli couldn’t fight the feeling that they still had unfinished business between them.

  Chapter Three

  The congregation knelt in silent prayer until Bishop Yoder released a discreet sigh. As a body, they each rose to their feet, turned and sat on the hard, backless benches. Once they were all seated, Lizzie watched as Bishop Yoder stood at the front of the room. With such a small Gmay, they had only one minister...Lizzie’s father. And with him still in the hospital, the bishop would probably preach to them.

  “What is in your heart today?” he asked the worshippers.

  The question took Lizzie off guard. Tilting her head, she listened intently as the bishop spoke, his voice soft but powerful, like the sound of rolling thunder off in the distance. He met the eyes of each person in the room as though he were speaking to every single one of them. When he met Lizzie’s eyes, she looked down, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

  “Do you carry peace and charity within you, or do you harbor anger and malice toward someone?” the bishop asked, pausing to give them each time to search their hearts.

  Lizzie squirmed on her seat. She glanced at Eli, but found him gazing straight forward, his expression one of thoughtful introspection.

  Bishop Yoder lifted a book of scriptures. “But whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.”

  Lizzie had heard this passage numerous times and thought she understood it clearly...until now. She had no desire to be hurt again and again, especially where her heart was concerned. But wasn’t that what the Lord expected? For her to humble herself and cast aside her harsh feelings.

  “Over the next weeks, I hope each of you will resolve any hard feelings you might carry toward others,” the bishop continued. “Examine your own thoughts and actions and bring them into line with how the Lord would have you live. I beseech each of you to hand Him your anger and pain, your shortcomings and flaws. Then, once we all are in accord with each other, we will hold our Council Services in preparation for Communion.”

  Communion! A sacred time when the entire congregation must be in complete harmony with one another. With all that had happened recently, Lizzie had forgotten it was nearly that time of year.

  As the bishop continued speaking about the rules of their Ordnung and the responsibility of each member of their community, she clenched her eyes tightly closed and gripped her hands together in her lap. Surely the bishop wasn’t speaking directly to her. He couldn’t know the resentment she still harbored toward Eli. Could he? Yet whether he could or not, she was the minister’s daughter, after all, and she knew she should set a good example of love, tolerance and forgiveness. But how could she forgive Eli after what he’d done? He had soured her toward all men. She would probably never marry now. Never have a familye of her own. Never live in her own house. Over time, several men had asked her out. Martin Hostetler had pursued her doggedly, but seemed to have finally given up after the first year. Now it appeared she would become an old maid. Pitied by the other members of her community.

  She took a slow breath, trying to settle her nerves. Her thoughts were selfish, she knew that. She was so worried about herself and what others might think about her that she hadn’t stopped to consider Eli and his well-being. Why had he returned? What had happened to him after all this time? After he’d left, she’d been worried for him, fearing that he was lost forever. But here he was, seeking a second chance. And who was she to refuse him?

  She had to find a way to let go of her anger. To forgive him. But how? All her life, she’d been taught the principles of repentance and forgiveness. So, why was it so difficult to exercise those virtues now?

  Puzzling over her dilemma, Lizzie was surprised at how quickly time passed before they broke for the noon meal.

  “Komm on. You can help me serve my potato soup.” Abby spoke cheerfully as she took Lizzie’s arm and pulled her toward the barn door.

  “Potato soup?” Lizzie said, her mind still focused on the sermon.

  Ab
by laughed. “I know it’s a bit fancier than our normal fare of bread and peanut butter, but I’m feeling extra domestic lately. All I want to do is cook and clean. Jakob says I’m nesting. He says it’s normal for a woman in my condition to act this way.”

  Laughing at Abby’s enthusiasm, Lizzie let herself be pulled along. She could just imagine how fun it must be to anticipate her first child. But that thought brought her another bout of confusion, sadness and guilt.

  Inside the kitchen, a dozen women crowded around, helping prepare the food. Their identical dresses were simple but pretty in assorted colors of blue, burgundy, purple and green. Each woman wore a pair of black, sensible hard-soled shoes, and a starched organdy kapp. Lizzie thought there was something lovely and serene about their simplistic dress.

  Naomi Fisher stood slicing loaves of homemade bread in front of the counter while Sarah Yoder laid dill and sweet pickles on a plate. Abby stirred an enormous silver pot on the stove as Lizzie reached for a large serving bowl.

  “I’ll ladle the soup into the bowl and you can serve it hot to the men.” Abby picked up a long ladle and dipped it into the frothy, white soup.

  Lizzie nodded, sliding on a pair of oven mitts to protect her hands from the heat. Lifting the bowl, she held it steady while Abby ladled it full. The warm, tantalizing aroma made Lizzie’s mouth water.

  “Um, it smells delicious,” Lizzie said.

  “Danke. I crumbled bits of bacon and shredded cheese into it. It’s one of Jakob’s favorite dishes. It’ll go well with Naomi’s crusty homemade bread,” Abby said.

  “Did you see Eli Stoltzfus listening to the bishop’s sermon? I hope it sank in. That boy needs to mend his ways, that’s for sure.”

  Lizzie looked up and saw elderly Marva Geingerich standing next to Linda Hostetler. The two women were unwrapping trenchers of sliced cheese and ham. Slightly deaf at the age of eighty-nine, Marva’s rasping attempt at a whisper carried like a shout across the kitchen and everyone paused in their work. Especially Fannie, Eli’s mother.

  “Ja, I saw him. He’s trying hard to fit back into the Gmay and doing a good job of it from what I can see,” Linda said.

  Marva’s thin lips curved in disapproval. “Ach, I don’t know why he ever came back. Once they leave and get a taste of the Englisch world, they never can get rid of it. I’ve seen it happen several times.”

  Something hardened inside of Lizzie. Though she was angry at Eli, she didn’t like what she was hearing. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right.

  “Marva! What are you saying?” Naomi paused in her slicing, her forehead creased with a frown.

  “He won’t stay long, you mark my words,” Marva said. “As soon as that boy gets tired of living our humble way of life, he’ll be off again to live among the Englisch.”

  “You don’t know that. Eli returned of his own choosing. He wants to be here with us.” Sarah Yoder, the bishop’s wife, set a casserole dish on the wooden counter with a thump.

  Marva jerked her head up, the wrinkles around her gray eyes deepening with her scowl. “Ach, he’s been gone too long. Who knows what wickedness he’s been up to? I don’t know how he’ll ever fit in with the Gmay now. No doubt he’s got plenty to repent of. Mark my words, he’ll leave again and that will be that.”

  An audible gasp filled the room and Lizzie flinched.

  Turning, she saw the reason why. Eli stood in the doorway, holding an empty glass in one hand. His expression looked peaceful as a summer’s morning, but Lizzie knew he’d overheard the conversation and must be upset. It was there in the subtle narrowing of his eyes and the tensing of his shoulders. Other people might not notice, but Lizzie knew him too well. For just a moment, she saw a flash of anger in his eyes, then it was gone and she thought perhaps she’d imagined it.

  He cleared his voice, speaking in a composed tone. “I’m sorry to intrude, but Ezekiel has a cough. Could I trouble someone for a glass of water?”

  Ezekiel, or Dawdi Zeke as most everyone called him, was the eldest member of the Gmay. Having just turned ninety-four years, he still had an active mind and was as kind and compassionate as Marva was harsh and unforgiving.

  “Of course you can.” Naomi, who was Dawdi Zeke’s daughter, took the glass from Eli’s hand, filled it with tap water, then handed it back to him.

  “Danke.” He ducked his head and left without another word.

  Everyone stared in mortified confusion, not knowing what to say. A part of Lizzie felt compassion for Eli and the urge to run after him. But another part thought it was just what he deserved. That made her feel worse because it wasn’t charitable to think that way.

  “How could you say those things? It wasn’t very nice. We should be more compassionate.” Naomi shook her head, her expression showing her dismay as she gazed intently at Marva.

  “I don’t know what you mean. I only spoke the truth.” Marva drew back her shoulders, pursed her lips and lifted her chin a little higher.

  The hackles rose at the back of Lizzie’s neck. Even if it was the truth, it wasn’t kind. She would never consider belittling Eli to other members of the congregation on Church Sunday. It wasn’t their place to judge him or anyone. Especially right after the bishop had preached to them about forgiveness and their upcoming Communion. But she couldn’t help feeling like a hypocrite since Marva had voiced aloud her very same concerns.

  Lizzie’s gaze shifted to Fannie, Eli’s mother. She had been cutting thick pieces of Schnitz apple pie but had dropped the knife onto the table when Marva had begun speaking. Looking at her now, Lizzie saw that her face had gone white as a sun-bleached sheet, her chin quivering.

  “He’s mein sohn. Do you really think he’ll leave again?” she cried with naked fear.

  Naomi quickly set her bread knife on the table before wrapping her arms around the other woman in a comforting hug. “Ne, it’s nonsense! Don’t you listen to such talk, Fannie. Eli fits in here with all of us just fine. He’s one of our own and a welcome addition to our community. We love him and we’re blessed to have him back. Look at all the gut he’s done already for the Beiler familye. Isn’t that right, Lizzie?”

  Naomi looked at her and Lizzie blinked in stunned silence before stuttering over a reply. “Ja, he...he’s been very kind.”

  “And who are we to judge others? We all have our faults. We are all happy that Eli has returned to his faith.” Sarah nodded her approval.

  “Danke.” Fannie wiped one eye, showing a tremulous smile of appreciation.

  “Humph! We’ll see.” Marva huffed as she carried a tray of sliced homemade bread outside.

  Swallowing hard, Lizzie realized she was staring. Her mind whirled in confusion. Seeing the hurt on Fannie’s face, she hurried over to comfort the woman.

  “Don’t listen to such talk. Eli loves you and Leroy. He wants to be here with you,” Lizzie said, trying to believe her own words.

  “But what if Marva is right? What if Eli leaves again? I don’t know what I’d do. He’s our only sohn,” Fannie whispered.

  A tremor ran down Lizzie’s spine, but she fought off her own fears and tried to be brave. “If he leaves, we’ll do as Christ taught and turn the other cheek. We’ll exercise faith and face whatever comes our way and pray that he’ll come back again. We can never give up on anyone.”

  Speaking these words aloud brought Lizzie a bit of courage. She meant what she said, yet her heart thumped with trepidation.

  “I just don’t think I can stand to lose him again.” Tears shimmered in Fannie’s eyes.

  “We’ll all be here for you, no matter what happens,” Lizzie said.

  Fannie nodded, but her sad expression still showed her unease as she returned to her chore of slicing pie.

  Lizzie watched her, her own hands shaking.

  Abby laid a hand on her arm. “Lizzie, are you all right?”

  She gave a stuttering
laugh. “Ja, I’m fine.”

  What else could she say? Only Eli knew if he would stay or go. Any member of their community could leave at any time, including her. Lizzie just wished she could be certain she wouldn’t be hurt by his decisions.

  “Don’t worry,” Abby said to her. “It’ll be all right. Komm on. Let’s get out of here. I need some fresh air.”

  Lizzie followed her friend outside, the screen door clapping closed behind them. They paused beneath the shade of the back porch. Children raced across the yard in a game of chase. Teenaged boys stood in a group, watching the teenaged girls. The afternoon sun sparkled in an azure sky. Lizzie wanted to cherish such a day...one of the last warm ones before the cooler weather rolled in. As she gazed at the rows of men sitting at the long tables, she let their subdued laughter soothe her ruffled feelings.

  “I can’t believe Marva said those horrible things. What was she thinking? She has such a waspish tongue,” Abby whispered, her hands gripping the soup ladle like a hammer. “She’s never been happy since her son brought the familye here from Ohio after his vadder died. She understands about repentance and forgiveness and should know better than to speak that way.”

  “Marva is rather stern,” Lizzie agreed in a vague tone, once again feeling like a hypocrite.

  “Jakob told me you and Eli were engaged once. I hope her words didn’t upset you too badly,” Abby said.

  Lizzie shrugged as she gripped the serving bowl tighter, letting the soup warm her chilled hands. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Are you still friends with him now that he’s returned?” Abby peered at her, as though looking deep inside her heart.

  Biting her bottom lip, Lizzie couldn’t meet Abby’s gaze.