Amish Sweethearts (28 page)

Her heart felt—again—as if it were breaking. She slid down the bank to their old fort. The frame of it was still solid, and although the sheets of plywood had weathered, they’d stayed in place. The rope they used to swing on when they played Tarzan had frayed, but the stump Zane had rolled down the bank where they used to sit side-by-side while she taught him Pennsylvania Dutch hadn’t changed at all. The sound of the water streaming over the rocks soothed her as she reread the letter again in the dusky light.
“.
 . .
know that I loved you.”
Why had he written that? Even if it meant he loved her as a friend, it only made it harder for her. She folded the letter and tucked it back into her pocket.

On the way back to the house, fireflies flickered in and out of the poplar trees. Lila stopped to watch. She couldn’t help but smile at the beauty of them.
“Be still, and know that I am God.”

That night, after Rose and Trudy had fallen asleep, Lila lit the lamp in their room, turned the wick down low, and wrote back to Zane. She told him about how work was going, at both jobs, and about how taken Mandy was with Simon. She wrote him that Daniel and Jenny planned to marry in November, but she didn’t write anything about Reuben wanting to marry her then too.

She continued on, writing about walking down to the fort and seeing the fireflies on the way back and what an enchanting moment it had been. She didn’t write that the verse, “Be still, and know that I am God,” was now playing over and over in her head.

Finally she closed the letter by writing:

I, too, treasure our time as children. I will always value the friendship we had. I learned so much from you. Your enthusiasm for life was contagious and brightened my childhood. I’m very grateful for that.

She knew she’d be a better wife and mother because of her friendship with Zane. Even though she wanted to close with
your friend
, she didn’t. She simply signed it
Lila
. And she didn’t say anything about loving him—not in the past or now. Or ever.

Lila was in the shop when Zane’s next letter came. She answered it right away too. But when his fourth letter came, the
end of July, one of the other clerks was working in the shop and she gave the letter to Dawdi, who gave it to Lila two days later when she came in to work. “Are you corresponding with him now?” he asked.

“I wrote him back,” Lila answered, taking the letter from her grandfather. “How is Mammi feeling?”

“Better,” Dawdi answered. “One more treatment and then she’ll have another CAT scan.”

Lila nodded.

“She’s going to come in to the shop later this afternoon.”

“Gut,
” Lila answered. She hadn’t seen her grandmother for the last week. She’d been working five evenings a week at the Plain Buffet. Dat had been making Rose help with the morning and afternoon milking on the days Lila worked at both places. Trudy was helping some now too and a few times Adam helped also.

Dawdi drove Mammi to the shop midafternoon, right before it was time for Lila to leave. Dawdi headed back to the office, but Mammi stayed up front. The day had grown overcast and humid, and her grandmother had a bottle of water with her that she kept sipping. “I had a message from Trudy that she and your Dat and Beth planned to stop by.”

“Oh?” No one had said anything to Lila earlier in the day.

“Your Dat had to stop by the feed store, and Beth suggested an outing—to the creamery,” Mammi explained.

Lila gathered up her things, patted her unread letter in her pocket, and then started to the door of the shop just as Dat, Beth, and Trudy stepped through it. After saying hello to everyone, Lila placed her hand on the top of Trudy’s head. “How fun that you get to go to the creamery.”

“Can you come with us?” Trudy asked.

Lila shook her head. “I’m off to work.” She gave her little sister a hug. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She called back to Dawdi in the office, telling him good-bye.

“Do you have your letter?” Dawdi called back.

“Jah,” she answered, knowing her grandfather didn’t realize others were in the shop.

“What letter?” Dat asked.

Lila hesitated and then said, “Zane sent a thank you for the quilts and blankets from Mammi and the other ladies. I wrote him back.”

“And you encouraged him to respond?”

She nodded. She had, by writing.

Dat stretched his hand out. “Let me see.”

“I’ll give it to you tonight,” Lila answered. “I’m about to be late.” She’d never defied her father before.

He started to speak, but then Beth gave him a look and he stopped. Lila hurried out the door.

She didn’t read the letter until she reached the restaurant parking lot, where she pulled around the back to the barn. She unhitched her horse, watered and fed her, and then leaned against the weathered barn boards. Zane wrote about their latest village visits and said it had been really hot, with a lot going on. He wrote that he felt he was finally making progress winning Benham’s trust, and that the work with the women and children was going well.

I admire these people. I appreciate the simple lifestyle, the focus on family, and the desire to care independently for the clan. The more I see of the world though, the more I appreciate what I’ve learned from the Amish. I know no group is perfect—just as no person is—but I’ve seen nothing to change my mind about Plain living. Be thankful for what you have.

At the end of the letter he wrote again how grateful he was that she’d agreed to write.

You writing about the fireflies made me so happy. Your letters give me something more to look forward to. And hope for.

Her stomach flopped. She had no right to give him any kind of hope.

And as I’ve said before, I appreciate your honesty. I don’t expect anything more from you than friendship—but I know you will be truthful. I appreciate that. And know, regardless of how you feel about me, I will always care about you. I will always remember you. I will always think about you. I will never forget you.

Lila folded the letter and crammed it back into her pocket. She was the least truthful person she knew. She hadn’t been honest with Zane about her feelings for him. She hadn’t been honest with Reuben about her correspondence with Zane. And she hadn’t been honest with her Dat either.

She hurried into the restaurant. She did her best to keep smiling and get through her shift, but she wanted nothing more than to climb into her buggy and drive away—far away.

Of course she didn’t.

When she got home, Dat was still awake, sitting at the table. He held out his hand. “Give me the letter,” he said.

She did. Silently. She knew the less she said the better.

He read the letter once and then a second time. His face didn’t give away any of his emotions. Finally he said, “Does Reuben know Zane writes to you?”

Her face grew warm. “No,” she answered.

“Reuben thinks you plan to marry him in the fall.”

She nodded.

Dat put the letter back in the envelope and left it on the table. “I never expected this from you, Lila.”

She didn’t respond.

He stood. “I thought you were smarter than your mother and aunt.”

“This has nothing to do with Mamm or Aenti,” Lila said.

“This has to do with all of you being deceptive.”

“Mama and Aenti Eve weren’t deceptive. From everything I’ve heard they were more than honest.”

Dat shook his head. “You were too young. What would you know?”

“Probably more than I let on.” She sighed. “I do know that what I’ve done is wrong. I’ll take care of things with both Zane and Reuben.” She stepped toward her Dat. “I’m sorry for deceiving you too. It wasn’t honoring you—I should have been honest.”

He stared at her for a long moment and then said, “I appreciate that.” Without saying good-night, he stood and headed to the hall.

Lila collapsed into a chair. Worst of all she hadn’t been honest with God. She was the biggest liar she knew.
Please forgive me
, she prayed. She needed the community of her church, but she needed Christ’s salvation more. She’d always been a good girl, jah, but she was still a sinner. Maybe she hadn’t gone wild and run around, but she’d let fear control her.

She’d been afraid to give up Reuben and the security he offered. She’d been afraid of Dat’s disappointment. And she’d been afraid of the consequences of accepting—and returning—Zane’s love.

She’d been aware of Zane’s fears from the beginning, but she’d deluded herself by naming her fears “commitment.” And being responsible. And doing the right thing.

She didn’t want to marry Reuben. She didn’t love him. She
couldn’t talk to him. He didn’t listen to her when she tried. She loved words and communicating. Sure, Reuben’s actions showed he was a good person, but she couldn’t live without having her soul fed. Without ideas and conversation. Without sharpening one another.

And even if she could talk to him, she doubted he’d truly ever hear her because she didn’t think he loved her either. He’d make someone a wonderful husband. But not her. Just like she wouldn’t make a good wife for him.

She loved Zane. Over three years had passed since he had joined the Army, since he’d left. Not a day had gone by that she didn’t think about him, that she didn’t long for him.

Zane made her feel more ferhoodled than anyone—but he made her
feel
. She had to have that in a marriage. He listened to her, he heard her. And he cared enough to go far away when she asked him to.

But she couldn’t marry Zane either, not without leaving the church. And she wouldn’t do that. She couldn’t do that to her Dat, to her family. She’d rather not marry at all.

Nothing had changed—except for her realizing the damage she’d done to all of them.

A few minutes later, she finished her short letter to Zane, saying she wasn’t who he thought she was. She would no longer be able to write to him, and she hoped he could forgive her for not being a better friend.

She put it in an envelope, put a stamp on it, grabbed a flashlight from the mud porch, and then took the letter out to the mailbox and raised the flag.

Next she walked to the barn and left a message on the phone at the lumberyard, telling Reuben she needed to speak to him as soon as possible. “I have tomorrow off,” she said. “Leave a message and tell me when I can meet you.”

As she walked back toward the house, a firefly flittered above
the gate. Then another, until dozens congregated for just a moment and then darted back toward the creek.
“Be still, and know that I am God.”

I will,
she answered. That was all she could do.

She ended up going to the lumberyard during Reuben’s lunch break, even though Dat was working. She sat beside Reuben on his porch, in a plastic chair, while he ate his sandwich.

She explained that she had been writing to Zane, and after asking his forgiveness, she said, “I can’t keep courting you.”

He kept on chewing.

“I haven’t been fair to you, at all. I kept thinking love is a commitment—which it is. And I do care about you, but I don’t think in the way a wife loves her husband.”

He swallowed and finally said, “What do you mean?”

She shifted toward him. “I can’t marry you,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

He took the last bite of his sandwich and after he’d swallowed asked, “Does this have anything to do with Zane?”

She shaded her eyes and turned her face toward him. “In a way it does. He told me he always appreciated my honesty, which made me realize just what a liar I’ve been. To you.”

He stood then, brushed his hands together, and exhaled as he looked down at her with a pained expression on his face. “So this is it?”

Lila nodded. Without saying anything more, he headed toward the lumberyard. For once she appreciated that he hadn’t tried to talk things through. It proved they weren’t a good fit. He didn’t really want to hear what she was thinking—only how it impacted him. She’d rather be single and make a good life for herself like Beth had than spend her life knowing she’d kept Reuben from spending his life with a woman who loved him. And kept herself from being loved.

She stayed put. She’d rather talk to Dat here than back home with Rose and Trudy around.

It didn’t take long for him to march toward her. “What did you tell Reuben?” he demanded as he approached the porch.

She took a deep breath. “I said I couldn’t court him anymore.”

Dat shook his head. “So you’re leaving the church, then? For Zane.”

“I’m not leaving the church,” she insisted. “I sent Zane a note and said I won’t be writing him any longer.” She stood. “I won’t be courting anyone.”

17

E
ven in the mountains the summer days were blistering hot, but at least the nights were cool. Sarge, Grant, Wade, and Zane stood at the gate of a village, waiting for Jaalal to meet them. Casey and the rest of the FET had stayed back at base. Two of the women were ill, and Sarge wanted all of them to rest. Zane had a duffel bag full of baby blankets slung over his left shoulder. Lila had sent more from the ladies back at Thread by Thread, to give to the mothers in the village.