Amish Trust Read online

  “Didn’t your mudder tell you anything about how she treated your grossmammi, Clara?” he continued. “She left her mother-in-law in that old, dilapidated house.”

  Rachel’s jaw dropped with the revelation. She was in utter shock.

  “Yes, your mudder left your grossmammi here all alone in that old house,” he pressed on. “It was left to the community to care for Clara. I got her medication, bought her groceries, and even cooked for her until she moved in with the Schwartz familye, while your mudder did not even visit, not even once. Your familye is a disgrace to the community and should never have been allowed back here.”

  Rachel could not help the wave of sadness, disappointment and shock that rippled through her. She could not believe what she was hearing. Why would her mother treat Clara that way? There had to be a logical explanation. “Listen Isaac, I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for my mudder’s actions. My mudder is a kind and loving person. She -”

  Isaac abruptly cut her off. “No, you listen! Your mudder is a mean and selfish woman. As a matter of fact, your whole familye is.” Isaac’s dark green eyes bore into her soul and she diverted her eyes from him for a brief moment. Isaac Petersheim was a furious mann, that was for sure, and for the second time that day, and she was at the brunt of another of his angry tirades. Yet when she looked deeper, she saw pain in his eyes and hurt in his soul. There was a lot more to his anger than his feelings as to how Miriam had treated Clara, of that she was sure.

  Isaac was still talking, his tone angry. “Clara was nothing like your mudder or the rest of your familye. Your familye treated her like trash but she was still nice enough to leave you her haus. You people don’t appreciate anything, and it’s sad that such a nice lady like Clara had such a mean spirited family.”

  “That’s enough, Mr. Petersheim!” Rachel snapped. “I will not have you talk about my familye in that way!”

  Isaac turned around and made to leave, but then turned to face Rachel again. “Your familye doesn’t care about anyone. It’s time for you to open your eyes and see it for yourself.”

  Before Rachel even had the chance to respond, he was gone in the same angry fashion in which he had exited the hardware store. Rachel paid for her groceries and then hurried to the buggy. Miriam was already waiting in the buggy.

  Rachel couldn’t wait to tell Miriam what had happened.” I just spoke to Isaac Petersheim again. He told me that you didn’t take care of Grossmammi Clara before she died.”

  Miriam let out a long sigh, and tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh, Rachel, I knew I’d have to tell you all this one day. Your grossmammi was very strict with your vadder when he was growing up. In fact, she was so strict that it drove your father away from home. He was the only child she had, and her own husband died when your vadder was quite young. As soon as your vadder turned eighteen, he moved to our community in Ohio. In fact, it was at his bishop’s suggestion.”

  Rachel listened in disbelief. She had no idea that her vadder had endured such a difficult upbringing. “Is that why I have never met my grossmammi? It must have been awful to be sick and living in this house all alone,” she said softly.

  “I’m sorry you never met your grossmammi, Rachel,” Miriam said. “Your vadder was estranged from her, and once he went to be with Gott, I felt it would’ve been against his wishes to take you to see her. I had never met her. She didn’t come to our wedding.”

  “Did she know about me?” Rachel asked.

  “Jah.” Miriam nodded. “After you were born, your father and I sent her a letter letting her know, and asking if she would to come and see her grandchild. Yet she did not respond to that letter or to any other letters that we sent. Your vadder finally gave up sending letters. He said it was probably for the best, that we should keep you as far away from her as possible, because he didn’t want her to impose her strict rules on us and tell us what bad parents we were. But looking back, I should’ve tried harder. I should have at least given you the chance to know her. I am so sorry.”

  Chapter 4

  Isaac Petersheim stormed out of the hardware store amidst a sea of shocked expressions. He did not apologize for his outburst and he did not look back. Instead, he hopped into his buggy and clicked his horse into a fast trot down the road. He gripped the reins with tense fingers, his eyebrows knitted together and his face stern and red. The rage had started when the news that they were coming had been announced in the community, and had been boiling inside him ever since he had spotted Miriam and Rachel in the store. He tried to control his temper while he shopped, but when he had reached the cashier and was only a few inches away from the pair, he had erupted.

  He simply could not leave without giving them a piece of his mind. “Do they think people forgot how badly they treated Clara?” he said aloud, as he pushed his horse on faster. “Miriam Burkholder has no right to be in town. She should turn around and head straight back to where she came from!”

  Isaac liked the quiet solitude of his lonely existence. He liked living alone, and only venturing out when he had to go to town, or to the church meetings every second Sunday. Even then, he did not stay for the meal, but hurried home.

  Yet something else had happened back there in the store that he wasn’t prepared for and he was not even sure how to explain it to himself. In the fleeting moment when he whipped around to unleash his fury on Miriam, he noticed Rachel’s brown eyes, and lovely brown hair poking out from under her bonnet. The sight of her set him slightly off guard, and for a moment he regretted his actions toward them. Nevertheless, he bore such a deep resentment for Miriam and the way she had treated Clara during her illness, that he refused to entertain any feelings for her daughter.

  When his wife left him three years earlier, he buried love, feelings, intimacy, and romance in a deep, dark hole. He had no intentions of ever unearthing those sentiments again. He had resigned himself to a life of solitude, that was exactly the way it was going to stay.

  Isaac made his way down the long, winding road to his large farm a few miles outside town. His irritation subsided, and his temper cooled. His shoulders were now more relaxed, and he was a lot less tense. Now, as he approached a more comfortable and familiar scene, he was more composed. He left home that morning to purchase a few supplies for the new chicken coop he was building at the back of the house. He had not expected to get into a confrontation and he had not expected to be attracted to a stranger. The morning had taken an unexpected turn, and he was glad to be home.

  After seeing to his horse, Isaac opened his front gate and was immediately greeted by a happy border collie.

  “Hey, Spot,” Isaac said, ruffling the dog’s hair, as Spot jumped up on his hind legs. “I missed you too,” Isaac said with a smile.

  The sun’s bright rays illuminated the sky and hovered over the lush setting. It was a majestic scene, one that made him nostalgic. Today, he had been unable to control his emotions, and deep down, that frustrated him. It made him realize he was still angry with the world, and there was more to his outburst than how Miriam had treated Clara.

  Just three years ago, this farm was alive and flourishing. He and his ex-wife, Olivia, had lived a humble but blissful life. Olivia had been a hard worker, picking the vegetables she had planted, and feeding their pigs, cows and chickens. To Isaac, she had been the most beautiful, loving, and kind woman in the world. They had both enjoyed their simple and peaceful country life. That was, until the life they had shared was no longer good enough for her.

  Isaac remembered the moment everything changed. It had started as a lovely, Sunday morning. Olivia had complained about a headache, but insisted that Isaac go to the church meeting without her.

  Yet instead of arriving home to see his wife there, he had come back to an empty house. Isaac made his way around the back of their home to the barn, but all he saw were cows, horses, and chickens staring back at him.

  He made his way back into the house calling his wife’s name, but got no response. Just then, he
noticed a parked car down the road. The car was barely visible, as it was almost completely hidden by the tall trees surrounding the farm. The color and model looked familiar. It closely resembled the car driven by Mark Lambert, the owner of the furniture store where Olivia worked part time as a seamstress, but what on earth would Mark be doing hiding behind the bushes across from his house?

  Isaac remembered how his heart had raced and how a nervous sweat had formed on his forehead. His knees had grown weak and he paced the floor and then the realization hit him. At that moment, Olivia stepped through the door, her hair muffled, and her face flushed.

  “Where have you been?” he asked sternly.

  “Oh, I was just out for a walk,” she said casually.

  “Is that is Mark Lambert’s car parked down the side road?”

  Olivia let out a deep sigh. “He just came by to talk about the schedule for next week.”

  “On a Sunday?” Isaac snapped.

  “Yes, on a Sunday.” By this time, Olivia was done with the conversation; she was already making her way upstairs, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

  This was a side of his fraa that Isaac had never experienced. The next morning, when Isaac went into the house for lunch, he intended to have a good talk with Olivia. He found a note on the dining room table. It was blunt, to the point, and heartbreaking all at the same time.

  I don’t love you anymore. I have left with Mark.

  I want a divorce, Olivia.

  Isaac ran into the bedroom. All Olivia’s items were missing from the bathroom along with her clothes from the closet. The house was completely void of all his wife’s belongings.

  And just like that, she was gone. Over the next three years, he never heard a single word from her. She never returned to town or to the home they shared. She was, of course, shunned from the community. The only thing he heard was from her lawyer, hastening him to sign the divorce papers to she could marry Mark Lambert. Rumor had it that Mark Lambert and Olivia had moved into a beachside condo in California. Isaac had no idea that Olivia had been dissatisfied with their marriage, let alone with the Amish life.

  Five years of marriage had come tumbling down in just a few days. When Olivia left, she took their dreams and a piece of his soul with him. Isaac spent the next three years alone, depressed, bitter and detached from his community. He lost all desire to tend to the farm they had built together. In fact he lost all zest for life.

  Isaac let out a deep sigh when the sun became obscured by clouds, and the sky turned dark. His trip into the past had cast an even grayer cloud over an already tumultuous day.

  Isaac’s home was a direct reflection of his life. His home was dark and gloomy and lacked the warmth and love it had radiated during his marriage to Olivia. As far as Isaac was concerned, all life had completely been sucked out of the haus. Now it had turned into his cave to shut out the world.

  Chapter 5

  A loud thud reverberated through the large home.

  “Mamm, someone’s at the door.” Rachel jumped to her feet and walked toward the front of the house, with Miriam hard on her heels. When she pulled the door open, she saw an older couple standing on her steps. They wore big smiles, and the lady was holding a big plate of pies.

  The man had a long, white beard and a no-nonsense manner, but his warm eyes made Rachel feel at ease. “My name is Herman Byler. I’m the bishop around these parts.” Smiling, he turned and nodded to his wife. “This is my fraa, Lydia. We wanted to welcome you both to the community.”

  Miriam invited them to come inside. As they stepped into the entrance, Lydia handed Miriam the pie. “Here you are! I baked some whoopie pies.” She smiled.

  Miriam set the pie on the table and smiled at their guest. “Thank you kindly, Lydia,” she said. She led them into the large, dilapidated living room. Miriam indicated that the bishop and his fraa should sit on the sofa to the right. It was the less patchy of the two sofas in the room, and Miriam and Rachel sat opposite, on the more damaged sofa. Springs emerged from several of areas of ripped cloth. “This place has seen better days, that’s for sure,” Miriam said, as they took their seats.

  * * *

  “Would you like some hot garden tea, or perhaps a cold drink?” Miriam asked the guests.

  They both opted for a cold drink, so Miriam and Rachel hurried to the kitchen. Rachel poured iced spiced tea into four glasses and then set them upon a tray, while her mudder got some plates out of the one good cupboard.

  When they returned, Rachel saw that the bishop was looking around, and a solemn look was weighing down his otherwise happy demeanor. “I’m sorry the place is in such bad shape,” he said, “but it’s been unattended to for quite a while.” The bishop looked around the room again. “Have you ladies been settling in well? You will enjoy the community here.” He smiled warmly.

  “It’s been great, denki, Bishop Byler,” Miriam said. “It will take a little getting used to, but I think we’ll love it here.”

  “Yes, moving from Ohio to Pennsylvania would be difficult for anyone at first,” Lydia said.

  “Thank you for cleaning out the refrigerator and getting it running, along with preparing the two bedrooms for our arrival. It saved us a lot of hard work. It was nice not to have to attend to that after our long journey,” Miriam said.

  The bishop’s smile faded as he turned to his fraa, and then back toward Rachel and her mother. “You’re welcome, dear. It was a bit of a task, but what would life be without hard work? Not much fun, eh?”

  Rachel found a hint of humor in the bishop’s words, and there was something about the kindness in his voice. She glanced at her mother and saw her smiling, clearly feeling a similar emotion.

  “That’s very true,” Miriam said in agreement. “Oh, and we also thank you both for feeding and caring for the horse that my mother-in-law left us. You have already lifted quite some of the burden from our shoulders. Thank you kindly.”

  “That is what we’re here for,” Lydia said. She looked over at her husband and they smiled.

  “Exactly,” the bishop added. “We want to make your stay in the community happy. We hope to become a part of your familye, and you both will become a part of ours as well.” His smile widened, and his eyes sparkled. “I hope you can make a financial success of Eden.”

  “Denki,” Miriam said. “I just hope we can get the place in better shape soon. It’s so dilapidated and falling apart. It seems as if nothing has been done to this haus in a long time.”

  “Oh, this damage isn’t all from age and lack of repair,” the bishop said. “Much of the damage is from the looters.”

  Rachel and Miriam exchanged glances, clearly confused. “Looters?” they both asked in unison.

  “Yes, looters,” he said. “They’re treasure hunters looking for the treasure of Eden. When this house is left uninhabited, like when your late grandmother moved in with the Schwartz familye when she became ill, the looters come out in droves, searching high and low for signs that it still exists in this location. They think it’s still buried here.”

  Rachel was confused.

  “What’s the treasure of Eden?” Miriam asked.

  “Have you ever heard of Captain Kidd?” the bishop asked.

  Rachel had never heard of him, and as her mudder was shaking her head, it was apparent that like she had not heard of the man either.

  “He commanded a crew of pirates back in the seventeenth century,” the bishop said. “I believe it was the late 1600s when he and his bandits roamed the wild seas, hunting and pillaging any ships they came across. They were known for attacking trade routes head on. Many people believe that several of their pirated treasures may still be buried out in the world, some even being here.”

  “Herman, perhaps you don’t have to go into such detail,” Lydia said.

  “Yes, I’m sorry,” he said, returning a smile.

  “No, it’s okay,” said Miriam. “This is interesting. I do remember that my husband mentioned this to me many year
s ago, but I don’t remember the particulars.”

  The bishop cleared his throat as he prepared to finish the story. “Anyway, one of Captain Kidd’s high ranking officials was supposedly a man named Dr. John Eden. When Captain Kidd was sent to the gallows for his various crimes, Dr. Eden retired to Pennsylvania and built a house in a rural part of town. It became known as Eden’s Hill. That is where it is believed that he stored his treasure until he died years later. If it’s true and the treasure is mostly untouched, it would be worth a fortune.”

  “What does that have to do with this house?” Rachel asked, battling her confusion.

  “When Dr. Eden died, treasure hunters started pouring over the area, looking for his lost gold,” the bishop said. “At first, there were a few visitors per month or so, but as time went on, it’s said that they started coming more and more often. Eventually, a young family built a large house on this land. Rumors say that these people had stumbled upon some, if not all, of Dr. Eden’s lost gold.”

  “They named that house Eden, and it is the very house in which we are sitting right now,” said Lydia.

  “Why would they be searching inside the house?” Rachel asked. “If the pirate buried it, wouldn’t it be in his original home or deep in the ground?”

  The bishop shook his head. “This house was built directly on the location of Dr. Eden’s original house. His house was eventually destroyed by looters and left a wasteland, until the young familye built this home. At any rate, when you come to the church meeting, we will organize help for you. This is too much work for two people.” Bishop Herman had a stern look on his face, but his features were kind and warm.

  Miriam smiled. “We appreciate it. Denki, Bishop Byler.”

  “And I’m sure your neighbor, Isaac Petersheim, will be of help. Er is en faehicher schreiner.” He is an able carpenter.