Patricia Davids - The Shepherd's Bride

“She wants to find a job around here.”

Joe nodded but didn’t comment. Carl drew a deep breath. “I had to tell her I’m in the Bann.”

“Ach, that’s none of her business.” Joe kicked a stubborn panel into place and secured it with a length of wire.

“She asked. I couldn’t lie.”

Joe shared a rare, stilted smile. “It would astonish me if you did.”

“Will she go to church services with you on Sunday?”

“Ja, I imagine so.”

“Will my being here cause trouble for you?” He didn’t want to leave, but he would. Joe had been good to him.

“Having her here is causing me trouble.”

“You know what I mean.” Joe could easily find himself shunned by his fellow church members for allowing Carl to work on his farm. The rules were clear about what was permitted and what wasn’t with a shunned person. Joe had been bending the rules for more than two years to give Carl a place to live. A few people in Joe’s church might suspect Carl was ex-Amish, but no one knew it for a fact. Only Lizzie. If she spread that information, it would change everything.

The old man sighed and laid a hand on Carl’s shoulder. “Sohn, I know I’m not a good example. I don’t like most people, but that’s my fault and not theirs. Folks around here are generous and accepting of others. I’ve known Bishop Zook since he was a toddler. He’s a kind and just man. I don’t know your story, Carl, but I’ve come to know you. You seek solitude out among the flocks and in your small hut, but it does not bring you peace. ’Tis plain you carry a heavy burden. If you repent, if you ask forgiveness, it will be granted.”

Carl looked away from the sympathy he didn’t deserve. “Sometimes, forgiveness must be earned.”

Joe’s grip on Carl’s shoulder tightened. “Our Lord Jesus earned it for us all by his death on the cross. However, it’s your life. Live as you must. I’ve never pried and I never will.”

“Thanks, but you didn’t answer my question. Will my staying here cause trouble for you?”

Joe dusted his hands together. “I can handle any trouble my granddaughter tries to make.”

Carl wasn’t as confident.

The evening shadows were growing long by the time they finished setting up the runways and pens. Both men were tired, hot and sweaty, in spite of the cold weather. Carl found he was eager to see how Lizzie was faring. Was she a good cook? Joe wasn’t. Carl managed, but he didn’t enjoy the task.

The two men entered the kitchen and stopped in their tracks. They both looked around in surprise. The clutter had been cleared from the table. The wild heaps of dishes and pans in the sink had been tamed, washed and put away. The blue-and-white-checkered plastic tablecloth was glistening wet, as if she had just finished wiping it down. Even the floor had been swept and mopped. The scuffed old black-and-white linoleum looked better than Carl had ever seen it. There was a lingering scent of pine cleaner in the air, but it was the smell of simmering stew that made his mouth water.

Lizzie stood at the stove with her back to them. “It’s almost done. There’s soap and a fresh towel at the sink for you.”

She turned toward them and used her forearm to sweep back a few locks of bright red hair that had escaped from beneath her black kapp. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the oven. Carl was struck once again by how pretty she was and how natural she looked in Joe’s kitchen.

If the aroma was anything to go by, this might be the best meal he’d had in months. His stomach growled in anticipation, but he didn’t move. The arrangement he and Joe shared might be different now that Lizzie was with them. He locked eyes with Joe and waited for a sign from him.

* * *

Lizzie wasn’t sure how to proceed. She’d never fixed a meal for a shunned person. If Carl sat at the table, she would have to eat standing at the counter or in the other room. Eating at the same table with someone in the Bann was forbidden. Had her grandfather been breaking the Ordnung by eating with Carl? If so, it was her solemn duty to inform his bishop of such an infraction. She quailed at the thought. Such a move on her part would ruin any chance of bringing her sisters to live with him.

She watched as her grandfather went to the sink beneath the window and washed the grime off his hands. He used the towel she’d placed there and left it lying on the counter so that Carl could use it, too.

Her daadi stepped to the table, moved aside one of the benches and flipped back the tablecloth. Puzzled, Lizzie wondered what he was doing. Then she saw it wasn’t one large kitchen table. It was two smaller ones that had been pushed together. He pulled the tables a few inches apart, smoothed the cloth back into place and returned the bench to its original place.

She relaxed with relief. Her grandfather hadn’t broken the Ordnung. It appeared that he and Carl maintained the separation dictated by the Amish faith even when no one was around.

She caught Carl’s quick glance before he looked away. He said, “Is this arrangement suitable, or should I eat outside?”

He was trying to look as if it didn’t matter, but she could tell that it did.

“If my grandfather feels this is acceptable, then it is.” It was his home, and he had to follow the rules of his congregation. It wouldn’t have been acceptable in her uncle’s home. Her uncle wouldn’t have allowed Carl inside the house. Her uncle expounded often about the dangers of associating with unclean people.

Joe took his place at the head of the table. Lizzie dished stew into a bowl and placed it in front of him. She dished up a second bowl and gave Carl a sympathetic look before she left it on the counter. She took a plate of golden-brown biscuits from the oven and set it on the table, too.

Carl washed up and carried his bowl to his table opposite her grandfather.

Lizzie got her own bowl and took a seat at her grandfather’s left-hand side. When she was settled, he bowed his head and silently gave thanks to God for the meal. From the corner of her eye, she saw Carl bow his head, too.

What had he done that made him an outsider among them, and why was her grandfather risking being shunned himself by having him around?

The meal progressed in silence. Lizzie didn’t mind; it was normal at her uncle’s home, too. She and her sisters saved their conversations until they were getting ready for bed at night.

The unexpected weight of loneliness forced her spirits lower. She missed her sisters more than she thought possible. Tonight, she would be alone for the first time in her life. She didn’t count her night on the bus, for she hadn’t been alone for a minute on that horrible ride. She thought she was hungry, but her appetite ebbed away. She picked at her food and pushed it around in her bowl. A quick glance at her grandfather and Carl showed neither of them noticed. They ate with gusto. Maybe good food would convince them they needed a woman around the house full-time.

A woman, yes, but four women?

There was more than enough work to keep four women busy for months. The place was a mess. All the rooms needed a thorough cleaning. There was years of accumulated dust and cobwebs in every corner of the four bedrooms upstairs, although only one room contained a bed. The others held an accumulation of odds and ends, broken furniture and several plastic tubs filled with baby bottles. She assumed they were for the lambs.

The downstairs wasn’t as bad, but it wasn’t tidy, either.

She was afraid to speculate on the amount of mending that was needed. There was a pile of clothes in a huge laundry hamper beside the wringer washer on a small back porch. The few bits of clothing she had examined were both dirty and in need of repair. It was too bad that one of her days here was a Sunday. She wouldn’t be able to engage in anything but the most necessary work on the Sabbath.