A Plain Man (9 page)

Eli was utterly flabbergasted. “Yes, the pig is real.”

“Why don't we have some lunch?” Caleb broke his father's inertia. “I know
Mamm
left a plate of sandwiches. Why don't I get a jar of peaches from the pantry?”

“Lunch in a real Amish kitchen? Wait until I tell my friends at work. They'll be so jealous.” Michelle returned to her seat next to her intended spouse.

Eli shook off his trance and began to wash at the sink. “Yes, lunch is a good idea. Then I'll need your help this afternoon in the fields, Caleb.”

“I would love to pitch in too, Mr. Beachy,” said Pete. “I'm fascinated with farming. What are you planting—wheat, hay, oats? Maybe soybeans? Alfalfa? Barley?”

When it became apparent that Pete's guessing would continue until he exhausted the name of every grain and vegetable, Caleb intervened. “We need to plant seed corn—both sweet and field.”

“I should have known.” Pete slapped his forehead with a palm. “Good cash crop, right?”

“The market fluctuates, but right now it's not too bad.” Caleb fought back a grin. Pete hadn't known the difference between beets, turnips, or kohlrabi during their trip to an open-air market and had shown no interest in learning. “These sandwiches appear to be ham and Swiss cheese on rye with tomato—everybody okay with that?” He set the plate down on the table, along with jars of mustard and mayo.

“Knowing your
mamm
, there should be enough.” Eli murmured, carrying over plates, napkins, and forks.

Pete placed a sandwich on both his and Michelle's plates. “We're fine with these, thanks.”

“But they're ham!” Michelle gasped, pressing a palm to her chest. “I surely hope this isn't that pig's sister or brother.”

Eli settled himself at the head of the table before answering his female guest. “Worry not; this particular hog was a total stranger to us.” He fluffed his napkin over his lap.

“Oh, thank goodness.” She bit into her sandwich with zeal. After Caleb spooned peaches into small bowls, Michelle's admiration rose to a new height. She forked one peach half and held it aloft. “Did your wife actually can these from your own peach trees, Mr. Beachy?”

“Of course she did.” Eli began eating as though late for an appointment.

“Then she should put those little doily-hats over the jar lids and sell them at a roadside stand. I'll bet she could make tons of money.” Michelle popped the entire peach half into her mouth.

“If we sold our peaches at a stand, Miss Moore, what would we possibly serve when
Englischers
drop in unannounced from Cleveland?”

That curtailed Michelle's enthusiasm a tad, along with the majority of the conversation for the rest of the meal.

Sarah walked home from Country Pleasures with a spring in her step, mainly because she walked home alone. Mrs. Pratt had hired Rebekah for several hours of extra work. Apparently, she wanted to clean out closets and the attic—areas of her house unconnected with the inn. Rebekah had been the first to volunteer for overtime. Not that Sarah didn't need extra money with her marriage less than eight months away. But with
Mamm
and Katie at quilting all day, she vastly preferred an afternoon to herself. Maybe she would nap, or read stretched out on the sofa or under a quilt on the hammock. Maybe she could...

Her musings ceased when Sarah spotted an unfamiliar car in the driveway—an expensive sports car with shiny wheels and a license plate that read
DADSGRL
. Sarah ran up the steps and threw open the kitchen door. “Hello,” she crowed, scanning the four people at the table. “I
take it that car is yours?” Her focus landed on a pretty girl with a vast expanse of chest showing.

“It is,” said the girl. “Are you Sarah?”

“I am.” Shutting the door behind her, she heard her father release a deep sigh.

“I'm Michelle Moore. Pete told me so much about you—how you three walked the beach at Edgewater Park and ate lunch at the Westside Market. If I had known about your visit, I would have taken the day off. I'm a legal secretary, plus I'm taking classes at Tri-C to become a paralegal.” She dabbed her lips with a napkin. “Your mom makes great peaches, by the way.”

Sarah could barely take her eyes of the energetic woman. “Nice to meet you, Michelle. Hello, Pete. My brother said you were engaged. When's the wedding?”

Eli pushed his chair away from the table. “Fix yourself a sandwich,
dochder.
The ones your mother made are gone. Miss Moore has already described the lobster extravaganza her parents will be paying for into their dotage.”

Sarah glanced between her brother and father on her way to the fridge. Caleb was glaring at his sandwich while her
daed
was frowning as though suffering heartburn. But the engaged couple didn't seem to notice.

“Thanks, Sarah,” said Pete. “In less than two months we'll be honeymooning in Maui. That's one of the Hawaiian Islands.”

Sarah winked over her shoulder as she fixed a sandwich. “Yes, I remember studying U.S. geography in school. Hawaii was our fiftieth state, right?”

Michelle squeezed Pete's hand. “That's right. Daddy rented us a condo for two weeks, right on the beach. Pete said you had a serious boyfriend too.”

“Yes, Adam and I are getting married this fall.”

“Where do you plan to honeymoon?”

Sarah carried her plate to the table. “Not as far away as Hawaii. We'll probably visit Adam's relatives in Indiana and Pennsylvania.”

“Sounds nice. Why don't you plan a Saturday in Cleveland with us? We could go to lunch at the mall—I know a great home décor shop that
sells every gadget shown on those TV cooking shows. If you stay overnight, we can visit the Cleveland Zoo and the art museum.” Michelle's fervor knew no bounds. “I heard you missed those during your last trip. We could be like tourists.”

Sarah glanced at her father. Her intuition was correct—
Daed'
s face had turned so red she feared his head might explode.

“That is out of the question, young lady. My daughter is about to take classes to join the church, which means her
rumschpringe
is just about over. She has no use for art museums, or culinary gadgets, and even less for shopping malls. She's about to become an Amish wife and mother, very different from the life you're preparing for.” Eli balled his napkin and tossed it down on his plate. “If you'll excuse me, Miss Moore, Caleb and I must get to work. You're welcome to join us in the fields, Pete, if you're not worried about ruining your clothes.”

Caleb's face flushed almost as bright as Pete's red shirt. “I have a jacket and boots he can wear.”

Pete carried his plate and glass to the sink. “I would love to, and these
are
my old clothes. I expected to get dirty in the country.”

“You men run off,” said Michelle sweetly. “The two brides-to-be will make short work of these dishes.”

Sarah bit her tongue until Pete, Caleb, and her father had donned coats and left the house. Then she burst into giggles while Michelle stared with confusion. “I am so glad to meet you, Michelle,” she said. “You and Pete will make a good match together. How about a slice of chocolate cream pie to celebrate your upcoming marriage?”

“That sounds wonderful. Say, you don't grow cocoa beans on this farm, do you? If so, I must text my mother—she won't believe how clever you Beachys are!”

Sarah and Michelle enjoyed their pie and cleaned up the kitchen in no time. Then Sarah took her on a grand tour of the house, chicken coop, and their recently tilled vegetable garden. Pete's fiancée had to be the friendliest person on earth. She asked dozens of questions—some ridiculous, some soul-searching, but never made a single disparaging remark. Despite working for a B&B that catered to
Englischers
, Sarah had never met anyone so curious about Amish life.

“My mom told me she used to dream about marrying an Amish man.” Michelle pulled up a long, tasseled weed as they strolled back toward the house.

“Did your parents have Amish friends?” Sarah asked a fair share of questions too.

Michelle shook her head. “Mom didn't know a single one other than those we bought vegetables from. But she was fascinated with their large families and how they turned their backs on modern technology.”

“Both are ways to stay close to God and His divine plan for our lives. The more children you have, the more you'll be centered on your family.”

“I never thought about it like that. I hope Pete and I have at least six kids. My friends only want one or two, but not me. I can't wait until we marry and get started making babies.”

Sarah blushed as they climbed the porch steps. She wasn't sure if anything would embarrass this young woman. “Let's have some iced tea on the porch. It's warmed up quite a bit, but I'll get a shawl to put around your shoulders.” When she returned, Michelle was rocking in the porch swing.

“It is so peaceful here. I definitely want a swing for my back deck.” Her head was back, her arms crossed, and her eyes closed.

“I brought a plate of oatmeal cookies to have with our tea.” Sarah hated to interrupt.

Michelle opened one eye and then grabbed two cookies from the plate. “Did your mom bake these?”

“My twelve-year-old sister, Katie, did. She's getting quite good.”

“Of course she is. Aren't all Amish women wonderful cooks and bakers?” She practically swallowed the first cookie whole.

“Of course not. Like every other group, some people are gifted in certain areas and some aren't. But we lock the bad cooks and bakers in the attic whenever tourists stop by to keep up our image.”

Michelle's laughter could have been heard in the cornfield. “You have a great sense of humor. That's why we get along so well.” She took another cookie from the plate. “Do you suppose I could see what your hair looks like under your bonnet?”

“This is called a prayer
kapp
.” Sarah glanced around to make sure they were alone. Women's hair shouldn't be seen by men other than their husbands, but since they were both females she didn't see a problem. Sarah pulled off the covering and turned to show the back of her head. “It's just an old-fashioned bun held up with pins.”

“My grandmother used to wear her hair like that.” Michelle patted the knot of hair gently. “Do you take it down every night or only every other? How often do you wash it? Do you think I could see how long it is?”

Sarah pivoted around to assess the woman's face. Michelle's inquisitiveness appeared utterly earnest. “Yes, I take it down each night but sleep with a loose ponytail. Otherwise it would get too tangled. I usually wash it every third day unless my scalp sweats in the summer.” She sipped her tea and nibbled a cookie.

“Makes perfect sense.” Michelle couldn't take her eyes of Sarah's
kapp.
“Mind telling me how long your hair is? I've never been able to grow mine past my shoulders. Then it gets on my nerves and I chop it off.” She fingered one of her own dark locks.

“Why don't I show you?” She pondered only a moment before pulling out the dozen pins that held her bun in place.
After all, the men would be in the cornfield for several hours.
When she shook her head, her waist-length hair cascaded down her back.

“My goodness, I've never seen such beautiful hair before.” Michelle reached out tentatively to touch a strand. “It's so thick and shiny. You should do television commercials for hair care products.”

“I don't think my parents would approve, especially since my father is the bishop.” Sarah lifted the bulk off her neck, feeling the sins of vanity and pride take hold of her better judgment.

Michelle pawed around in her oversized purse, spilling half the contents on the porch floor. Finally she extracted a plastic brush. “Would you mind if I brushed it? I promise this brush is clean.” When Sarah didn't respond, Michelle's face turned the color of ripe tomatoes. “You probably think I'm weird. Sorry. Pete says I always push things too far.”

“I don't think you're weird in the least. When we were young, my
sister and I loved brushing each other's hair. Now Rebekah would prefer pulling mine out by the roots.” Sarah perched on the edge of the swing. “Go ahead.”

Michelle dragged the brush through Sarah's long tresses, gently working out snarls instead of yanking them free. “Maybe I'll return to school for cosmetology. These paralegal classes get boring at times.”

For five minutes Michelle brushed, Sarah rocked, and they both shared their plans for the future. Despite her fancy car, flashy clothes, and extravagant wedding plans, Michelle had a practical head on her shoulders. “When my children are old enough for school, I'm sending them to a Christian school where they'll get personal attention. Public school classrooms are too large.” While she talked, she plaited Sarah's hair into two long braids.