Carrie Lighte - Minding The Amish Baby

Granted, Turner had conversed more often with Katie than with Tessa. The younger sister’s effervescent personality frequently made him feel bumbling and dull by contrast. Rather than grow tongue-tied in Tessa’s presence, he preferred to interact with Katie regarding any issues that had arisen with the daadi haus . Now he wondered if Waneta’s comments indicated Tessa was a little too high-spirited for her own good. Maybe there was a reason unbeknownst to him behind the mother’s request. He understood how family members sometimes protected each other’s reputations; that’s exactly what he was doing for Jacqueline.

“It was difficult enough raising my own siblings. I don’t need to look after a fully grown tenant,” Turner grumbled aloud as he entered his empty house.

He tossed a couple of logs into the wood stove and then washed his hands before preparing a plate of scrambled eggs for supper. He thanked the Lord for his food, adding, Please keep Jacqueline safe from harm and bring her home soon.

Before opening his eyes, Turner rubbed his thumb and forefinger back and forth across his brows. It seemed he’d had the same unrelenting tension headache for fourteen years. It started the day his parents were killed by an automobile when he was eighteen and he was left to raise Mark, Patrick and Jacqueline, who was a toddler at the time. If his aunt Louisa, then a young widow, hadn’t been living in the daadi haus that once belonged to his grandparents, Turner never would have made it through those early years. She helped manage the children, especially Jacqueline, and he supported the family financially by taking over his father’s buggy shop. But the year Jacqueline turned ten Louisa married a mason from out of state and moved to Ohio.

With the grace of God, Turner managed to raise his brothers according to their Amish faith and traditions. But bringing up a girl—especially one who was entering her teens—was a challenge exceeding Turner’s best efforts. It wasn’t that Jacqueline was necessarily unruly; it was more that Turner suddenly was at a loss for how to communicate effectively with her. Having completed her schooling at fourteen, she was no longer considered a child, but neither was she an adult. To Turner it seemed she wanted all the privileges of adulthood without any of the responsibilities, and the brother and sister frequently locked horns. When Jacqueline turned fifteen, she moved to Louisa’s house in Ohio. By sixteen, her rumspringa began, and she suddenly left Louisa’s to live among the Englisch. Much to Turner’s consternation, it had been nearly eight or nine months since she’d contacted their family.

Raising his head, Turner released a heavy sigh. Try as he did to cast his burdens upon the Lord, lately he felt more overwhelmed than usual. He supposed this was because after his youngest brother, Patrick, married Rhoda and moved out of the house in November, Turner didn’t have anyone to distract him from his thoughts on the weekends, when he tended to worry more about Jacqueline’s welfare and sometimes took trips to search for her. It was on Saturday and Sunday evenings when he most wished for the loving support and companionship of a wife, but marriage wasn’t an option that seemed probable for him.

As a younger man, Turner’s time and energy were wholly consumed by raising and providing for his siblings. He’d expected he’d have more flexibility once they entered their teens, but in many ways Jacqueline’s disappearance limited him more now than caring for her as a child had done. How could he court anyone when his weekends were spent searching for his sister? Furthermore, he couldn’t imagine sharing the secret of Jacqueline’s circumstances with anyone outside the family. Although Jacqueline hadn’t been baptized yet so she wasn’t in the bann —or shunned—it was still considered disgraceful for her to have run away to the Englisch world.

As for marrying in the future, Turner felt he couldn’t risk starting a family of his own, for fear his wife would bear daughters. What if he failed to raise them to stay true to their Amish faith and traditions as miserably as he’d apparently failed to raise his sister? He couldn’t bear that kind of heartache again, nor could he allow his wife to suffer through it, either. No, despite his desire to marry, Turner figured the Lord must have willed for him to remain a lifelong bachelor.

Exhaling slowly, he reminded himself the next day was Monday and he’d be back in his shop with his brothers working at his side. Repairing and modifying buggies, crafting wheels and organizing inventory filled Turner with satisfaction. Unlike in the situation with his sister, there was almost no problem he couldn’t figure out and fix in his workshop.

He lifted a forkful of eggs to his mouth, but they’d already gone cold. What he wouldn’t do for a home-cooked meal—the kind his aunt used to make or his mother before that. He’d received many Sunday supper invitations, but for the past year he’d turned them down, anxious his hosts might question him about his sister. The last anyone in Willow Creek knew, Jacqueline was at Louisa’s in Ohio, and he preferred to allow them to think that was still the case. After living among the Englisch for over a year, she’d have enough explaining to do and attitudes to overcome when—or if —she returned to their community. She didn’t need rumors to begin before she’d even arrived.

Unfortunately, his isolation also meant Turner rarely enjoyed a hearty meal, unless one of his sisters-in-law made it for him. They didn’t know about Jacqueline’s disappearance, either, despite their expressed curiosity about her whereabouts. The three brothers rarely discussed Jacqueline’s absence, even with each other, but Turner knew Mark and Patrick felt as concerned about their little sister as he did and they were equally committed to guarding her against gossip, even if their wives’ questions—especially Rhoda’s—were well intentioned.

As he prepared for bed that night, Turner again reflected on his brief encounter with Tessa’s parents. If he’d been as protective as they were, might Jacqueline still be part of their family and community? Or had he been too strict? Was that what caused her to leave? There hadn’t been any significant conflict between them when she’d gone to live with Louisa. In fact, all three of them had agreed it would be beneficial to have a female influence guiding Jacqueline as she entered womanhood. Turner certainly didn’t blame Louisa for his sister’s running away, but in retrospect, he regretted allowing Jacqueline to leave Willow Creek in the first place. What if by letting her go he’d given his sister the idea she wasn’t dearly wanted, an integral member of their family? Turner shuddered. Once again, he asked the Lord to keep her safe and warm, to guard her against sinful temptation and to bring her home soon.

The pain that had been plaguing Turner all day moved from his forehead down the side of his jaw and into his neck. As his head sunk into the pillow, he decided no amount of distress was worth such physical discomfort. He had to stop worrying, keep praying and start working harder at finding his sister. Meanwhile, he wasn’t going to be his tenant’s keeper, no matter how insistent her mother was.

When the new day dawned, Tessa practically leaped out of bed. She loved Monday mornings, when she returned to her job at Schrock’s. Initially, because her parents sheltered her so closely, she had little experience interacting with the Englisch , and she barely spoke a word to the tourists. But after two years as a clerk, she’d grown accustomed to the Englischers ’ ways and she readily struck up conversations as she assisted them with their purchases. Although she missed her close friend, Anna Chupp, who quit clerking when she got married, Tessa enjoyed engaging with the Schrock family and other Amish leit who consigned their goods in the shop.