Following Your Heart (13 page)

What Amish man would wish to involve himself with an unwed
Englisha
girl, even if she were obedient and eventually joined the church? Not even old Yost Byler, living in the northern edges of the community in his fallen-down house would want such a woman for a wife. Not that Yost Byler was that old, but living without a wife all these years seemed to make him old. That's what living without a woman did to a man.

Thomas stared at the hissing lantern on the ceiling, and the thought hit him like a streak of light. He was wrong… old Yost Byler probably
would
take the
Englisha
girl. He'd take anyone. Hadn't they made enough jokes about Yost's search for a wife? Old Yost made trips to other Amish communities all the time, attending weddings he wasn't invited to, paying respects at funerals of people he didn't know. All in his desperate search for a wife.

Yost claimed he went because he liked to travel, but that was a joke. His efforts to get a widow or any old maid who would consider his hand in marriage were well-known to the community. Thomas smiled at the lantern, squinting his eyes. Perhaps something could be done about the
Englisha
woman's problems. Old Yost might only need a small suggestion to get him going, and if he knew the ministers approved, this could all be brought to a solution rather quickly. The
Englisha
woman would have to accept his offer or leave the community. Few people would sympathize with her once they learned she turned down an offer of marriage—even if it was from Yost Byler.

Thomas pulled a piece of pie onto his plate, careful that the loose pieces didn't fall on the floor. Back on the bench, he jabbed James in the ribs with his elbow. “I just had an idea. I think I know how the
Englisha
woman can find herself a husband.”

“Are you offering yourself?”

“No, of course not,” Thomas said with a smirk. “But old Yost Byler would be perfect. All he needs is a bug in his ear.”

“Now you're being mean,” James said. “For all we know this woman might be nice and even good-looking.”

Thomas shrugged. “She's an
Englisha
with a child. That's all we need to know.”

“And how do you expect something like that to happen?” James asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Don't worry about that,” Thomas said. “Just drop the idea in your
daett
's ear next week. Something about Yost Byler making a
gut
match for the
Englisha
woman. I'll take care of the rest.”

“I'll do no such thing,” James said. “You're not going to use me because I'm the deacon's son. I learned a long time ago—if you want something with
Daett
, you go talk with him yourself. Or break the
Ordnung
, and he'll come talk with you. But leave me out of it.”

“Some people are not one bit helpful,” Thomas groused.

“And tell me why I would help you out with Susan,” James went on. “That would ruin my own chances.”

“I know you're not serious.” Thomas glared suspiciously across his plate at his friend.

“Susan's fair game,” James said. “If the horse is loose on the road, who is to say who will bring her into the barn?”

“Just mind your own business,” Thomas shot back, standing to his feet to take his plate back to the table. James was only teasing, but what if he wasn't? No boy could be blamed for being tempted with Susan. He really needed to do something and soon.

Yah
, he would. The trip to Yost's place could be made tonight, instead of some evening next week when he was tired after a full day's work.

Thomas looked around. With a group this size, no one would miss him if he left now. The only problem was getting his sisters a ride home. Well, that could be taken care of. They could hitch a ride with someone going that way. They had often done so on the Sunday nights when he took Susan home.

Working through the group of boys, he moved toward the girls' side of the living room. Eunice caught his eye, giving him a big smile. He returned it without thinking and noticed an eager light flash across her face.

All the more reason to resolve this issue quickly!
he thought, pushing on as he searched the group for his eldest sister. He eventually found Lizzie toward the back of the room. He waited a few minutes until she looked his way. Giving his head a slight nod, he motioned toward the kitchen. Lizzie got up and met him at the edge of the girls' benches.

“You girls need to find your own way home,” he whispered into her ear.

“Why?” Lizzie asked, pulling her head away to look at him.

“I'm going to leave early.”

“Oh? Is Susan here?” Lizzie teased.

“
Nee
, she isn't,” Thomas said. “I just have to leave, that's all.”

Lizzie shrugged and then nodded.

Thomas made a slow, unobtrusive retreat out of the house. Finding his way to the barn in the darkness, he kept his head down. The few boys going back and forth between the house and barn didn't say anything when he brought his horse out and hitched him up. Leaving the buggy lights off, he drove past the house and turned north on the gravel road. It would only be a friendly visit, and little would need to be said. Old Yost Byler would be thankful there was finally a woman available to work in his tumbledown house and wash his dirty clothes. The man could use a woman, there was no doubt about that.

And the
Englisha
woman should be thankful. Not that he knew that much about her, but she ought to be. A woman with a child doesn't have that many options, and Susan had said her friend really wanted to join the Amish. Well, now she would have her chance to show her willingness. If all went well…and why wouldn't it go well? Deacon Ray and the ministers surely wouldn't object to Yost Byler's desire. It might even be exactly the solution they had all been looking for. Thomas smiled in the darkness as he reached down to turn on his lower buggy lights. He slapped the reins and his buggy's wheels plowed through the loose gravel.

S
usan was bent over the sink, scrubbing a stubborn spot on a metal pan. Teresa was waiting beside her, a dish towel in her hand. Soft adult voices rose in the living room against the louder background noises of children playing just outside in the semidarkness.

“I'm so sorry you had to stay home from the Sunday night hymn singing because of me,” Teresa said quietly.

“I'm okay,” Susan said. “The only one who is probably really disappointed is Thomas. And that suits me just fine.”

Teresa looked out the window into the dusk light.

“You have such a wonderful family, Susan,” she said. “I can see where it wouldn't be too bad staying home to be around them. It's like a little touch of heaven on this poor, broken earth.”

Susan glanced over at Teresa's face. “And I'm so glad to have you as part of it.”

“You know that can't really be,” Teresa said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I mean, your family is making me feel so welcome, but not everyone is like that.”

“It'll be like this until people get to know you. Then everything will be okay,” Susan said, rinsing the pan.

“Are you girls done?”
Mamm
's voice came from the kitchen doorway. “If not, we can come back in and help you finish.”

“Last pan being dried,” Susan said over her shoulder.

Teresa smiled as the conversation in the living room resumed its murmur. Behind her, the washroom door burst open, letting in a string of small children chasing each other. They raced through the kitchen and into the living room, the sounds of their happy cries blending in with the adult voices.

“I wish Mom could be here for this,” Teresa said, a catch in her voice. “She believed in me when I told her what I wanted to do with my life, but she may never get to see how wonderful this really is.”

“Maybe she could come and visit sometime,” Susan suggested.

“I don't think that's such a good idea,” Teresa said. “At least not yet. Look at the trouble I'm in. She wouldn't understand this. Mom doesn't believe much in God. She just supported letting me go after my dream. And wasn't that a wonderful thing for her to do?”

“It was,” Susan agreed. “It was a very brave thing to do.”

“And now I'm here,” Teresa said. “I knew you were wonderful before, but you're even nicer here in your home. And your parents are so nice. And now your sisters are also here. And there are so many of them!”

Susan laughed. “That's not all of them, believe me. There are nine of us girls all together.”

Teresa wiped her eyes again. “I don't see how there can be that many good people on this earth.”

“We try to be,” Susan said.
And it would be nice if some people in the community tried harder
, she thought.
But that's best not said aloud
. She asked, “Do you want to sit in the living room with the married folk?”

Teresa nodded, her eyes shining in the soft light of the gas lantern. She followed Susan into the living room and took a seat on the couch beside her. Susan's sister Betsy stood and took baby Samuel to Teresa.

“Here he is,” Betsy said. “And such a
gut
baby. He hasn't made a sound since I've been holding him.”

Teresa's face beamed as Betsy returned to her chair.

“Our two-year-old said his first word last week,” Miriam announced, a smile spreading across her face. “I guess he's just a little late getting started.”

“
Ach
, some of them are,”
Mamm
assured her. “I wouldn't be worried.”

“But all of the others were talking early,” Miriam said. “Joe told me not to worry, but I still did. Now the baby seems to be trying to say ‘
mamm
.' Then on the ride to the sewing Wednesday he finally said
‘horsey'
real quiet-like but perfectly. Yesterday he tried saying a whole sentence.”

Ada, sitting beside
Mamm
, cleared her throat. “Does anyone know what to do with boys who aren't growing out of their stuttering? Duane and Joan both got over theirs right quick, but Lester isn't. I'm worried about him. It seems the more conscious he's becoming of the problem, the worse it gets. The teacher called on him with a question the other day, and Joan said he couldn't say anything. The poor boy.”

Betsy and Esther looked at each other but didn't say anything.

“He'll be growing out of it soon,”
Mamm
offered. “I wouldn't worry about it. At least no one was laughing at him, I hope.”

“Joan said they weren't,” Ada said. “But what if he doesn't get over it?”

“I expect your worrying about it just makes things worse,”
Mamm
said. “Lester probably picks up on that.”

“A girl in our class couldn't talk either when called on in school,” Betsy spoke up. “One Christmas during the program practice time it was awful to listen to the poor girl trying. She had the beatitudes to recite and couldn't get the B's out. You can imagine how that went.”

“Oh, no,” Ada groaned. “Didn't someone do anything to help her?”

“You would think so,” Betsy said. “The teacher finally gave her something without so many B's, but that took a while to happen.”

“
Ach
, Lester's
gut
-looking enough,” Betsy's husband, John, said with a laugh. “He'll be doing fine with the girls even if he can't talk.”

“At least you don't have that problem,” Esther's husband Henry said, and they all laughed.

“Milo is developing this nasty little habit,” Esther said, bringing in another subject. “The boy discovered a while back that I scare easily when someone surprises me. Now he creeps up on me when I'm in the basement with the washing machine running and hollers real loud. It's gotten so bad I can't even relax while doing the washing. And to think that washday used to be enjoyable.”