Mount Hope: An Amish tale of Jane Austen's Mansfield Park (The Amish Classics Book 5) Read online

  But her mother did not answer her. The baby began to cry from the cradle at the foot of their bed in the master bedroom and she jumped up, hurrying to fetch Ruth. Her father merely gave her a look and advised her to pack, and pack quickly, for the driver would be arriving within the hour and it would be best for the younger siblings if she were gone before they awoke.

  Without further discussion, Daed stood up and gestured for William to join him outside to start on the chores. Fanny watched as her older brother stood up and slowly followed his father outside, pausing at the door to cast a long look over his shoulder at Fanny. And then, after a sharp word from Daed, William turned, and with his head hanging down, he disappeared into the lingering darkness of morning.

  Alone and stunned, Fanny somehow managed to make her way into the bedroom and in a robotic fashion took her three dresses and nightgown from the hooks that hung from the wall. She folded them and placed them into a small canvas bag along with her few toiletries, undergarments, and stockings. When she finished, there was still room for more. The only problem was that she had nothing more to take.

  The next day Fanny found herself seated in the back seat of a passenger van, her bag clutched to her chest as she stared out the window. The van pulled down a long, winding driveway lined with white fencing, and headed toward a large farm nestled in a wide valley between two hills.

  Fanny’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the extensive farm that was set off the road. Since the driver had turned off the highway and started driving through Holmes County, Ohio, Fanny had noticed that most of the farmhouses there were set just off the main roads, not back in the center of the farms like her parents’ home. And, as far as this farm went, with four buildings on the property—the barn clearly dominating the others—it was certainly the largest farm that Fanny had ever set her eyes upon.

  Beyond the drawn-out driveway, the fencing—no longer white but just regular post and barbed wire—seemed to stretch for miles. The herd of cows, mostly black and white Holstein cows with a few creamy-colored Jerseys mixed in, grazed on the lush green grass expanse. Their udders seemed full and their bellies fat. No scrawny bones on their hips, nor any patchy, dry grass to be their only grazing material. Fanny tried to count them but gave up when she reached forty, twice as large as her father’s herd had ever been.

  Forty cows! If milking one cow took ten minutes, forty would take almost seven hours, an impossible task for a single person, let alone doing this two or three times a day! With such a large herd, her uncle was truly blessed to have two grown sons.

  Before leaving Colorado, the driver had picked up two other families, a young couple who had recently married and an older couple with two teenage sons. They were moving back to Lancaster for the very same reason that the Prices were sending Fanny and her bruder away: there simply were limited ways for an Amish family to make a living in the Colorado community unless trade was their occupation. During the two-day journey, the van had stopped only four times to refuel and allow the travelers to use the restrooms. For food Fanny had a small cooler of sandwiches, water, and fruit her mother had packed. When the driver got sleepy, his companion took over so they could drive straight through.

  The drive from Westcliffe, Colorado, to Mount Hope, Ohio, had taken over twenty-one hours. By the time the van arrived in Mount Hope, Fanny felt tired and cramped, her stomach bloated and her head pounding. She had never liked traveling in a car, although she hadn’t much experience with it. To be thrown headlong into an almost twenty-two-hour drive only solidified her partiality to the horse and buggy over these motorized boxes.

  Fanny was their first stop, and as the van pulled to a stop by the barn, she felt her nerves begin to unravel—and not for the first time. Although quite mature for her young age, she knew nothing about Ohio. And she knew very little about her aunts, uncles, and cousins beyond the little she had gleaned from the infrequent letters Maem had read to the family.

  She had known better than to question her parents. The last thing she wanted was a trip out to the woodpile to become her departing memory of the Colorado farm. But when she asked, for one last time, when she would be returning, her mother had averted her eyes and quickly returned into the house.

  Fanny suspected what the answer was: never.

  Now, as she stood in the driveway, her canvas bag and small cooler by her feet, she stared at the farmhouse and wondered what to do next. The house loomed large, a massive two-story structure with multiple porches and doors. She wondered how many rooms it contained. Certainly many more than her parents’ small four-room house in Colorado.

  Near the red barn was a smaller building with a large, wooden sliding door that opened into the horses’ stalls. She could see two of them staring at her as they chewed on their hay. Three gray-topped buggies were parked between the horse barn and the house, forcing Fanny to panic once again. Just how many people live here, she wondered. After all, her family of eight had only one buggy!

  “Fanny? Fanny Price!”

  Startled at the sound of her own name, Fanny looked in the direction of the voice that called to her. A robust woman stood at an open doorway of the house. She looked the same age as her mother, and Fanny knew instinctively that it had to be Aendi Naomi. The woman took a step onto the porch, holding the screen door open with her hip as she waited for Fanny to come to her. Without being told, Fanny bent down to pick up her bag and the cooler before walking toward her aunt, whom she had never met before this day.

  “You’re a full half-day early!” the woman said by way of a greeting.

  The hostility in her voice, so fiery and sharp, confirmed Fanny’s suspicions about which aunt she had just met. No hello. No embrace. Not even a compassionate smile. Definitely Naomi, she thought with a heavy heart.

  Appraising the young girl with narrowed eyes, her aunt did not seem pleased with what she saw or, perhaps, it was the change of arrival time. “My word! Didn’t the driver stop to give you a rest?”

  Intimidated by this aggressive greeting, Fanny responded by merely shaking her head.

  “I can’t imagine why not!” Naomi clicked her tongue and scowled. “Ja, vell, nothing to be done about that now, I reckon. You’re here, so that’s that.”

  Clearly Naomi was irritated by her early arrival, which was Fanny’s first indication that her aunt did not like unexpected changes to plans. Not wanting to aggravate her further, Fanny stood before the woman and waited for instructions.

  Once again, her aunt gave her a quick study. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed as if she was disappointed by what she saw.

  During the long drive, Fanny hadn’t changed her dress, so she knew it was wrinkled and stained from where she had dropped her sandwich the previous afternoon. Her stiff cap was barely pinned to her pulled-back hair. When a light breeze brushed her cheeks, a stray strand of hair fluttered and stuck to her mouth. With the back of her hand Fanny pushed it back.

  “Not too much to look at,” her aunt said, “but I reckon that some good hearty meals will put meat on your bones.” Then, stepping onto the porch, the door finally shutting behind her, Naomi walked past Fanny and headed toward the other side of the house where a large archway protected the doorway. Pausing at the steps, her aunt turned around and saw that Fanny still stood in the same place. “Come along then, Fanny! No sense dilly-dallying!”

  Obediently Fanny obliged her aunt’s request and carried her things toward the porch where her aunt stood impatiently waiting for her.

  “You best not be an idler,” Naomi remarked. “Might not have much to do in Colorado, but there’s plenty of chores to tackle on this here farm.”

  Already this was off to a bad start, Fanny realized, as she took a deep breath before stepping inside the house.

  It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting in the vast kitchen with the open gathering room. She stood there, staring at the large table and expanse of kitchen counters and cabinets. The walls were painted a pale green, and dark green window
shades kept out the natural sunlight. Two green sofas and two reclining chairs were on the far end of the room, along with a white painted bookshelf full of books and knickknacks.

  The room was bigger than her parents’ entire house, she realized.

  The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs made Fanny look in that direction. Another woman appeared and, unlike Naomi, greeted Fanny with a soft smile. “My, my!” She crossed the room and stood before Fanny. There was a gentle way about her, and despite the difference in age from her own maem, Fanny knew that this must be her other aunt, Martha Bontrager.

  “Let’s have a look at you, Fanny!” the woman said, ignoring Naomi’s scoff. “I reckon that I do see the resemblance to your daed.” She paused. “I trust your maem is doing better now?”

  Fanny didn’t know what she meant or how to respond.

  Naomi, however, did. With a disapproving roll of her eyes, she snapped, “Of course not, Martha! That’s why the child has been sent here!” She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “What could you expect from that schwester of ours, anyhow? Running off with that man to Pennsylvania and then moving to Colorado! Such nonsense!”

  Clearly the rebuke stung Martha, for her smile disappeared. “Ja, vell, no sense in dredging that up, I reckon.” She stared into the distance.

  Still remaining silent, Fanny looked down at her shoes.

  “You must be hungry after such a long journey, ja?” Without waiting for an answer, Martha hurried to the counter and picked up a plastic container. She popped off the top and carried it back to Fanny. “Set your things down by the door and come have a cookie,” she said.

  Naomi held out her hand to stop Fanny from moving. “Nee, child. Go set your things by the stairs.”

  Stopping mid step, Martha raised her eyebrows and faced Naomi with a quizzical expression on her face. “But, Schwester, she’s to live with you, ja?”

  The look that was exchanged between the two sisters made Fanny wish she could shrink into herself. It was bad enough that her parents had sent her away without any indication of how long she would be gone, but to realize that neither of her aunts truly wanted her was almost too much for Fanny to bear.

  But, as always, she remained silent.

  “I cannot have her stay with us,” Naomi said in a stern voice. “With the bishop being so busy these days, he can’t have disturbances.” She paused and lifted her chin with an air of self-inflated importance. “It is baptism, communion, and soon the wedding season, after all.”

  Martha pursed her lips and contemplated what her older sister had said.

  “Besides, you already have children here. We do not.” The way Naomi emphasized the word we made it clear that she was done with the conversation.

  Martha, however, did not let it rest. To her credit, she lowered her voice when she said, “That is the very reason, Schwester, that our niece Fanny should reside with you at your house. My husband’s sons live here . . . ”

  With a heavy sigh of irritation, Naomi dismissed her concern by interrupting her. “Oh, help, Martha. Not that old argument again. Why! We discussed this. The child is clearly far behind in all aspects. Growing up together she’ll be more like a little schwester to all. The two boys will be long settled down before she’s of age for courting.”

  Fanny’s eyes grew wide at the mention of courting. She was only ten years of age and they were talking courtship?

  “It’s rather inappropriate, Naomi,” Martha whispered in what appeared to be a last-bid attempt at swaying her sister’s mind.

  “Oh, fiddle-faddle! Even if she does fill out and become pretty in the face, they are less likely to court her if they’ve always known her as a younger sister.” She paused dramatically as if to reflect on her own words. “Nee, Martha, having them grow up together is much better.”

  Martha glanced at Fanny, who hadn’t moved from the spot where she stood. “It wouldn’t be such a terrible thing anyway, I reckon.”

  At this comment, as if completely unaware that Fanny remained in the room, never mind privy to the conversation, Naomi waved her hand dismissively at her sister. “Oh, come now, Martha. We shall do no more than raise this child under the righteousness of a proper g’may. That, and that alone, shall secure her a proper future with a suitable enough man. That is, after all, our only familial obligation!”

  Once again Martha seemed to give in to Naomi, her shoulders sagging just enough to tell Fanny more than she cared to know. Martha’s submissive reactions reminded her too much of her mother, while Naomi had more of a take-charge personality. The fierce determination in her eyes indicated that she was not to be trifled with.

  Martha, however, was clearly the softer of the two women, perhaps due to a stronger maternal instinct. She knew that she was more partial to the younger aunt already; a fact she confirmed when she returned her attention to Fanny.

  “Never mind those particulars now, shall we?” she said in a soft, light voice. “We’ll sort all of that out later. Besides, your cousins are looking forward to meeting you!” She gestured toward the table for Fanny to sit before hurrying to the bottom of the staircase in the back of the room and calling out, “Thomas, Elijah! Come down now and meet your cousin. Fetch the girls too, if they are up there.”

  Within seconds, the sound of footsteps could be heard as Martha’s children came tromping down the hardwood stairs. To Fanny, it sounded as if a herd of horses was stampeding at a full gallop towards her and she shrank further into herself, her shoulders rounded forward and her head hanging so that her chin almost pressed against her chest.

  “Why, look at her! She’s just a wisp of a girl,” one of the boys said, only to be shushed by his mother.

  “That’ll do, Thomas!”

  He gave a lopsided grin, one that was full of mischief. Fanny saw it out of the corner of her eye. She knew right away that he was a handful. From the looks of him, he was in his late teens and, most likely, on his rumschpringe—the time in an Amish youth’s life when they are permitted to explore the world outside of the confines of the church and community. Fanny had only heard stories from some of her church friends about their older siblings going through their own rumschpringe. In Colorado most of the youths met once or twice a month for singings. She couldn’t help but wonder what the Amish youth in Ohio did during their running-around period.

  Two girls who appeared to be only a year or two older than Fanny leaned their heads together, one whispering to the other, who responded by giggling.

  “Miriam! Julia!”

  They looked at their mother, forcing a look of innocence on their faces.

  “You are being unwelcoming to your cousin who traveled quite a distance to come stay with us,” Martha said with a heavy sigh of distress. “Whatever will I do with you?”

  “Her kapp is funny looking,” one of the two girls said in a loud voice. “I don’t see what’s rude about that!”

  Before Martha could reply, the second son stepped forward and stretched out his hand toward Fanny. “I’m Elijah, and I’m happy to meet you, Cousin Fanny,” he said in an even tone. He appeared to be six years older than Fanny, about sixteen, his shoulders not quite filled out and his face not weathered from seasons working outdoors. Unlike his older brother, Elijah’s cheeks were not pot-marked with acne and he had kind eyes, dark chocolate orbs that stared at her with curiosity.

  Despite the welcoming gesture, Fanny eyed his hand suspiciously. After the reception from his siblings, she worried that Elijah was up to something. But when he stood there, his hand lingering in the air between them, she finally reached out and shook it. “Danke,” she whispered.

  He leaned forward and, in a voice loud enough for everyone else to hear, whispered, “And I like your prayer kapp.”

  His older brother gave him a push with his elbow and the two sisters giggled before running away. Elijah started toward his brother. When Thomas darted away, following his sisters, Fanny suddenly found herself alone in the room with her two aunts. She stared a
fter the Bontrager children. Regardless of what her aunt had said, Fanny knew that she was an unwelcome addition to their household. As she sat at the table, listening to the sounds of laughter that filtered in through the open window, her heart felt heavy and she longed for the comfort of her own home and her own siblings.

  From the moment that Fanny entered the small one-room schoolhouse, situated on a fenced-in plot of land adjacent to the Bontragers’ farm, she knew that she would not fit in with the other children from Mount Hope, Ohio. Without exception, the other students, about twenty in all, stared at her, some with their mouths hanging agape as they saw her stiff, cup-shaped prayer kapp that was so different from their own. Self-consciously Fanny reached up her hand and touched the side of her kapp by her ear, which caused two of the younger boys seated in the front of the room to begin giggling.

  “Jonah! Benjamin!” the teacher scolded.

  Miriam and Julia had deserted Fanny, already taking their assigned seats with nary a look in the direction of their cousin. Clearly she was on her own.

  “You must be Fanny Price!” the teacher said, a warm smile on her face as she walked between the desks and down the center aisle to greet her. “Your aunt told me all about you, and I’m so eager to hear about Colorado.” She glanced at her other students. “We’ve been studying the maps to see just how far you have traveled, haven’t we, class?”

  Fanny looked up at the teacher and decided that, even if the other students thought poorly of her, she had an advocate in the lovely young woman standing before her. “Danke, Teacher,” she whispered.

  Placing her hand on Fanny’s shoulder, she guided the newcomer toward the front of the room. “Now, tell me about your schooling so far, then,” she said, her words spoken in a singsong way.

  Fanny bit her lower lips, embarrassed to admit that she had never attended school. Instead, her mother had taught her what little she knew. “I know how to read and write,” Fanny said, her voice so soft that the teacher had to lean forward to hear her. “And some sums. My older bruder helped me with that.”