The Thorn Part 13

Silas a.s.sisted Rose into his open buggy, making sure she was settled in the seat before he unfolded the woolen lap robe and placed it carefully over her, then over himself. "Might be too nippy for a long ride tonight." He reached for the reins.

The bone-chilling cold was already seeping into her feet. "A gut thing it's not raining," she remarked.

"I have an umbershoot, just in case." He grinned pleasantly. "Are we ready?"

She nodded and smiled. They rode along without talking much for the first half mile or so, and she looked up at the stars, spotting the Milky Way right away.

Then Silas asked, "How is your Mamm doin' this week?"

"About the same." She thanked him for asking.

"I hope it's not a hardship when you're away from the house for an evening."

"Oh no. Between Mammi Sylvia and my father, Mamm's looked after right fine."

"Do they depend on you mostly, Rose, during the daytime hours?"

"For the past months, jah ... Mammi Sylvia had to look after my grandfather."

She found it interesting that he seemed to be asking, in a roundabout way, if she would be sorely missed for caretaking if she were out on dates, or even married and out of the house. Being careful not to let him know she guessed at the intent behind his questions, she inquired after his mother and siblings in turn.

He spoke warmly of them, and she found herself wishing she might become better acquainted with his family. Every last one of them just seemed so pleasant. It was no wonder Rebekah Bontrager had talked so highly of the Goods - and Silas especially - back years ago. Momentarily Rose wondered what might have come of Rebekah and Silas's friendship, but thoughts of her former friend quickly faded when Silas turned his handsome face to her.

Soon he was talking about the amount of honey they'd gathered in, as well as the wood that was already chopped, stacked, and covered for the winter. She, too, enjoyed talking about the things of autumn, saying she'd taken a short walk the other day to pick up the little b.a.l.l.s the b.u.t.tonwood trees had already shed. "I took several back to show Mamm. She's always said Hen and I liked playing with them when we were young."

Silas was quick to ask about Hen. Rose wondered if perhaps she'd made a slip by talking about her Englischer sister. "Hen's got herself a job over at Rachel's Fabrics," she said. "Do you know where it is?"

He said he did. "My, my ... isn't that interesting?"

"She came by the house on Monday afternoon - her first day of work there - and picked up two of her old Kapps."

"You don't mean it!"

"She's just started wearing them again, at least to work."

"So, there's hope she might ... ?" His voice trailed off.

"Seems she wants to spend a little of her time amongst the People." She really had no idea of Hen's future plans. Only what her sister had shared in confidence about missing her Plain heritage.

Soon they were back to talking again of her favorite season - the coming brilliance of leaves and the hickory nuts that would scatter on the ground, crackling beneath their feet.

"Have ya ever noticed the way the maple leaves crisscross so heavily on the bishop's lane, like an orange sunshade?" she asked. When Silas said he had, Rose also remarked about the thick new growth of hair on the horses and mules.

"It'll end up in the birds' nests, come spring," he said, reaching for her hand.

Her heart did a little skip. She breathed in deeply, slowly ... and enjoyed the fresh, crisp air as the stars created a sparkling canopy.

"I want to ask you something, Rose Ann."

"Oh?" she said, filling the precious gap between his comment and the next lovely question.

"Will you be my steady girl?"

She didn't have to think twice. "I'd be honored."

Silas raised her mittened hand to his lips and kissed it. What was it about her hand in his that made her heart sing?

They continued on their way - Silas asking if he might meet her at their usual spot, up from her father's house, next Sat.u.r.day evening. She happily agreed and replayed the curious events of the evening over in her mind: Christian's cruel words, Nick's unexpected appearance at the Singing, and the way Mary and Sarah had flirted with him - as if he were the most eligible fellow there. And now this.

Rose looked fondly at Silas as they rode beneath the dazzling sky. Despite everything, this is the happiest night of my life, she decided then and there.

With some good help from Mammi Sylvia, Rose took great care, as she always did, with the weekly washing, though she found herself hurrying a bit on this nippy Monday morning. She and Mammi talked cheerfully about baking pumpkin pies and cookies, and of needing to make a big batch of applesauce soon. But while Rose agreed there was plenty of baking ahead, she was eager to get out the door. She had a plan up her sleeve, one she would not tell a soul. She intended to go and visit her sister-in-law Kate, who lived not far from the Browning house.

So when the damp clothes were securely pinned to the line, Rose found her father, who'd said at breakfast he had errands to run near josh and Kate. Since Mammi Sylvia was spending the morning with Mamm, Rose was absolutely free to go.

"I'll gladly walk home," she offered. That way, once she headed to Gilbert Browning's, she wouldn't have to scurry back to Kate's again just to get a ride home later.

Ever so pleased with her little scheme, Rose climbed into the gray family buggy. She could hardly wait to tell Nick about it, though that would have to wait till later this afternoon. Maybe then he'd tell her about Mary's and Sarah's silliness at Singing last night, too.

Dat rode quietly for a time, as was his usual way. Eventually he brought up the fact that both his horse and the bishop's Pepper had gone missing last week. "I suspect you and Nick were out riding."

She caught a note of dismay in his voice and didn't know how to respond.

"If you're thinkin' of letting him court you, well ... I hope you'll think twice about such a thing."

"Dat ...

He looked at her. "Nick's not for you, Rosie."

She felt too shocked and upset now to enjoy the landscape rolling by or the familiar sway of the carriage. Why on earth did her father think she might have an interest in Nick ... and he in her? Surely it would ease Dat's mind if he knew of Silas's renewed interest. But she wasn't about to break with tradition to say so.

After a time, Rose was able to shake off her discomfort and wondered instead what she might find at the Browning house on a day when she was not expected to arrive.

As they rode along, she noticed a plump red-tailed hawk basking in the morning sun. She pointed it out to her father, who nodded his head, straw hat perched atop his graying light brown hair. There was a shy ruffed grouse preening behind a fence post, and a red fox skulked in the gra.s.sy ditch along the road. Rose tried to soak up the quiet, allowing the peace of the ride to soothe her.

"Sure has been nice to have Mammi stay with Mamm after breakfast," she said, making small talk, wanting to discuss something completely different.

Dat's lips broke into an approving smile. "Anytime you want to slip away with a nice Amish boy, she's willin' to take your place." He paused, then added, "Things can always be worked out for your mother's care." Was he telling her it was all right to think ahead to her own future? Just not one with Nick.

When they arrived at Kate's, Rose thanked her father and got out of the carriage. She stopped to wave, then walked around to the back door.

Inside, she gladly accepted Kate's hot chamomile tea and a delicious sticky bun. She played with their youngest, fifteen-month-old Annie Mae, named for Kate's older sister. The baby jabbered as Rose carried her around while Kate showed her several small quilting projects she had in the works - potholders and table runners.

"It's time to start cookin' up lots of pumpkin, too," Kate said.

Rose said she and Mammi had been talking about just that this morning. "I like to make pies and cookies well enough, but I also like savin' some pumpkins for outdoor decorations, ya know."

"Well now, next thing you'll be talkin' of carving a face on them." Kate frowned.

"No need worryin' about that." I'm not worldly like Hen, she thought, kissing Annie Mae's soft, chubby cheek.

Later, when Kate said she needed to put Annie down for a morning nap, Rose excused herself to visit a neighbor "up the way." And Kate, being a busy mother, wasn't any the wiser.

Hen wound her hair into a low bun at the back of her neck in preparation for work later that afternoon. She didn't take the time to twist the sides, as she'd always done growing up. She did scrub her face, however, deciding not to apply any makeup this morning, hoping Brandon wouldn't notice. Or, if he did, that he wouldn't mind. Rachel will be pleased, she thought of her cheerful employer.

Hurrying to the kitchen, she saw that Brandon was taking his time getting off to work and was glad for the chance to cook his favorite hot breakfast - scrambled eggs with cheese and bacon, and jelly toast. She caught herself; it reminded her of the scrambled egg sandwiches her father had always enjoyed back home.

Brandon looked up and did a double take when he saw her. "'Morning, Hen." He stared at her.

His frown made her feel strange. "Uh, hope you don't mind."

"What ... that you're trying to match Mattie's hairstyle?"

She hadn't thought of that. But here came sleepy-eyed Mattie, her hair still in its little knot from yesterday. Part of it was falling out, and for a moment Hen thought of Rose's sometimes-mussedup hair.

Mattie walked over to her daddy and crawled into his lap. Without looking at Hen, he began to pull the bobby pins out of Mattie's hair, one after the other, as he whispered to her. Hen couldn't make out what he was saying.

She really wanted to share what was in her heart this morning - something she had been pondering since sending her apology letter to Arie. But the likelihood of Brandon's agreeing was slim to nothing. Regardless, she forged ahead. "I'm hoping to visit my former bishop, Aaron Petersheim, sometime. There are certain things I want to say to him," she said, going over to sit at the table in the breakfast nook. "I'd like you to come with me."

"Hen. . ." Brandon looked down at Mattie and kissed the top of her head, her hair completely loose and hanging down her back now. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Well, can't I hope, at least?" She sighed and glanced at the table.

"Have you thought about this?"

"Yes, I have. And you're welcome to come, if you're willing."

He shook his head and set Mattie down, sending her back to her room to get dressed. "I guess you'd like me to say, 'Hey, thanks, Hen.' Am I right?"

"I understand why you're not interested," she said quietly. "I a.s.sumed as much."

"I have nothing to say to any Amish bishop - or to your father, for that matter." Brandon rose and went to start the coffee maker. He placed his hands flat on the counter. Then, turning his head, he looked at her from across the kitchen. "Every day there's something new with you, Hen. Where will this end?"

"Not 'end,' Brandon. It's actually a new beginning."

"Well, not for me." He raked his hand through his thick hair. "And it certainly isn't for Mattie, either."

She stiffened, apprehensive about his serious tone. Mattie Sue was her whole life, her everything. Well, so was Brandon....

"I'd like to make an Amish dress and cape ap.r.o.n ... for myself," she said. "Will that annoy you, too?"

He moaned and covered his face with his hands, then left the kitchen.

Feeling duly rejected, Hen wished she knew how to make this work for her and Mattie Sue while keeping Brandon happy, too. But how? It seemed absolutely impossible.

Actually, if she were honest with herself, dressing Plain - even working at Rachel's Fabrics - was only a fraction of what Hen wanted. She longed for everything she'd grown up with - time spent with family, openly living out her faith, and adherence to a lifestyle that promoted discipline and thoughtful child rearing.

She walked back to the bedroom, wanting to let Brandon know she did not intend to annoy him further. If the Amish attire bothered him, she would simply wear it to work. But she would not make the mistake of asking his permission anymore. She'd already blown it with that - taking the new job against his wishes.

He was brushing his teeth when she found him. Standing by the door to the bathroom, she figured he must view her as completely selfish, yet she didn't know how to go about changing that. She wanted him to take her into his arms and say he loved her even if she wanted to incorporate a few of the simple, peaceful ways of her childhood into her present life. That it was all right with him if she couldn't pull off being a modern woman, after all. She was still his devoted wife.

Straightening, Brandon wiped his face with a towel and started when he saw her there. "Good grief, Hen."

"Sorry." She touched his arm. "This is just so complicated."

He stared blankly at her. "Not for Mattie and me. We're fine."

"What do you mean?"

"Why don't you go back to your Amish foolishness ... if you must. I'll keep Mattie here with me."

"Brandon ... what on earth?" Her heart was throbbing.

"Isn't that what you're working toward?" He frowned hard. "A separation?"

"That's what you think?"

"Well, isn't it?"

"Honestly ... no, Brandon."

"So, how's this supposed to work, then? Can you explain, because I'm clueless."

"That's just it ... I don't know. I wish I could snap my fingers and be totally on board with your English life. But the older Mattie gets, the more I feel it's not possible."

Brandon walked to the window across the room, near the oak chest her father had made for her. Her hope chest. "Then I don't see any other way but for us to split up." He turned, his face pale. "Do you?"

"I love you." She swallowed, trying not to cry. "But I'm torn apart ... and I don't know what to do about it."

He went to her, and she met him partway. "I didn't force you away from your Plain life, did I?" His arms were around her now. "You made that choice, Hen ... as I recall."

"Yes," she managed to say. She'd wanted him more than her strict background. Back then.

He held her near, kissing her face. "I don't believe in that whole locked-in-time business - you know that. I'm fine with the real world. The world you chose when you married me."

"I really thought what I'm feeling might pa.s.s...."

Hen heard Mattie Sue giggle while playing school with her dolls out in the hallway.

"But after our daughter was born," Hen whispered, her lips trembling, "everything started to change for me."

Brandon studied her, his eyes agonized. "What will you say to the bishop?" There was a catch in his voice.

"Offer to make amends ... somehow."

"For your sin - for marrying me?" His eyes searched hers.

"We're unequally yoked," she murmured. "Bishop Petersheim told me that very thing once ... with fire in his eyes."