When we exited the car, I was the last one out. The bishop and I followed Jake up the back steps, through the utility room, and into the kitchen. Ruth welcomed us with an ample grin. “What a wonderful surprise. We’re so honored, Harvey, and it’s gut to see you, Evie.”
“Hi there, everyone.” Brandy sashayed into the kitchen looking ready to burst, her abdomen extended even more than the last time I’d seen her. Wearing a long smock and leggings, she shook Harvey’s hand as naturally as could be. She had more moxie than I did. I couldn’t imagine being in her situation and acting so blasé. I’d hide out in Oregon or travel to Italy and stay in a quaint pensione in Florence for six months. Reading A Room with a View was having a bad influence on me. I could book passage on an ocean liner across the Pacific and into the Mediterranean Sea.
No, even if I were unmarried and pregnant, I wouldn’t leave. Jake needed to support his parents, and I needed to prove I was stable. We’d stay here.
I’d best keep my thoughts to myself or the bishop would never baptize either of us.
“Brandy, I’d like you to meet Bishop Harvey,” Ruth said.
“My goodness. A real bishop? Did you come over to give me a lecture?”
“Nah. He didn’t even know you existed until ten minutes ago,” Jake said. “He’s here to visit my father.”
“Nice to meet you, Brandy.” Harvey’s glance slid over to Ruth. “Where is Amos?”
“In the living room. We weren’t expecting company…”
I figured she was trying to warn Harvey of Amos’s wretched condition. We straggled into the living room toward his bed. A propane lamp illuminated the space and cast a yellow-white light across Amos’s gaunt face, giving him a ghostly appearance. The head of his bed was raised, and his wiry beard lay off the side of his pillow.
“Amos, look who’s come to see ya.” Ruth lay her hand on his arm, and he blinked his eyes open and caught sight of me.
“Eva.” His voice was faint, a mere whisper.
“Look,” Ruth said, “Bishop Harvey’s come by specially to pay you a call.” But Amos kept his gaze glued to me.
“Eva.”
Wanting to defer to Harvey, I paused for a minute. Then I went to Amos’s side and greeted him. “You look gut, Amos. You must be eating.”
“Yah, he is.” Ruth stood at my side.
“We mush his food and feed him little bites,” Brandy said. “I’ll be an expert by the time my baby’s a toddler.”
Ruth sidled up next to her. “Brandy’s been such a fine, gut help.”
“We’re helping each other.” Brandy rested her head on Ruth’s shoulder. “I wish I’d had a mother like her.”
“I hope we’re not breaking the Ordnung,” Ruth said to Harvey. “Brandy has nowhere else to go.”
“Is that true?” Harvey asked, the full force of his attention on Brandy.
“Yes. My parents are in the middle of an ugly divorce and turned their anger on me. They told me to leave and never come back.” She stroked her abdomen. “Not that I have any right to blame them.”
“Are there homes for unwed mothers where you’re from?” he said.
“But couldn’t we keep her here?” Ruth took Brandy’s hand. “She keeps me company. I was planning to ask a midwife to stop by next week.”
“Yah, go ahead. Maybe a boppli will comfort Amos. Have you spoken to your deacon about it?”
“Not yet. He’s been sick with a head cold and didn’t want to infect Amos by coming over. I don’t think Deacon Samuel knows anything about Brandy yet. I didn’t myself until Jake showed up. Ach, I hope Bishop Jonathon and our ministers don’t want me to turn Brandy out.”
“I’ll speak to them on your behalf,” Harvey said. “Jonathon is a fair man, although more conservative than I am.”
“Brandy has been a great help to me, yet the only thing Amos seems to care about is Eva.” Ruth’s head pivoted toward me. “But the doctors said he may not remember any of this time period when he recovers.”
“If he recovers,” Jake said, bringing us back to harsh reality.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Chauffeuring Harvey to his home, Jake remained quiet. He and Harvey sat in the front, and I sat in the back. I snuggled under a lap blanket to ward off a case of the shivers.
I speculated as to where Jake’s thoughts lay. On his near comatose father, who might never regain strength? On his stated decision to join the church and marry me? If we had to wait too long to get married, might both of us change our minds?
Or was Jake still struggling between two monumental choices—staying Englisch or being baptized—and not sure which one was right for him?
A buggy passed us coming from the other direction. I wondered if the metal clanking of the horse’s hooves sounded to Jake like chiming bells or keys to a prison cell where he’d serve a lifetime sentence. I was still unclear myself. Did I want to live under the stringent laws of the Ordnung for the rest of my life if neither Jake nor Stephen was at my side?
“On the right.” Harvey pointed to an imposing stone home. Behind it stood a white barn, several outbuildings, and three silos.
“Your house is elegant,” I said.
Harvey pointed to a smaller home attached to the corner of the stone house. “Ever since my wife’s death two years ago, I’ve considered moving into the daadi haus, but I still have four dochders living at home. One adult son runs the dairy farm.”
“This is a beautiful farm.”
“Much too large for one man. I have my plate full as bishop, and I was grateful my son took over the milking business.”
Jake drove around the house and rolled to a stop near the back steps to a wraparound porch.
He unhooked his seat belt, but Harvey stayed put. “We have a bishop’s meeting next month. Both your names have come up many times over the last
