Harvest of Hearts (21 page)

“Nein. I’ll be there later.”

“Right. You’ll find me playing volleyball, if you care to.”

And if she didn’t? She didn’t say that, though. She’d hurt him enough, judging by the slump of his shoulders as he turned away. Guilt gnawed at her. She should apologize. Should do something to make it right.

She’d probably killed any remnant of love he might have been feeling for her. But that was as it should be. He and she were a combination that never was meant to be. As much as that realization hurt.

Amish and Englisch were not meant to mix.

She wanted to collapse into the dirt and sob.

Instead, she watched through a blur of tears as he disappeared around the barn. Then, she turned and walked off. Alone. Where she was going, she didn’t know.

***

Her life was her own. Matthew knew that. But her choices would affect everything. Especially his heart. He wished she could see how much. Her behavior was selfish—not seeking to serve God and others first. But she had the right to choose what she wanted; he couldn’t deny that. And if she wanted her Englisch world and not him….

Matthew had stalked off, leaving Shanna alone to think, though he’d wanted to stay and talk. To encourage her to return when she’d completed her schooling, to work and serve the people, to make her home with him. As his frau.

God, do the talking for me. Help her to see.

Activity flooded the barnyard. The big sliding doors stood open, and hay bales were scattered around. Some buwe took turns swinging from a rope that hung from a high rafter and jumping into a pile of hay. Matthew had never cared for that activity, not since a childhood friend had missed the hay and fallen to his death.

Matthew moved on and eventually found Miriam Shultz sitting on the porch, surrounded by a group of friends. Joseph wasn’t there; he might have joined in a game of volleyball or football. Or maybe he was in the group of buwe standing around the campfire, roasting hotdogs on sticks. It was hard to tell in the gathering dusk.

Matthew looked at Miriam. The strings of her white kapp dangled behind her head, and her dress was a kind of dusky orange. She wore tennis shoes over her black stockings. “Happy birthday,” he said.

She giggled and then nudged the girl seated beside her, who started snickering, too.

He had no use for giggly girls. He turned and opened the cooler on the ground nearby. Rather than taking the time to choose a particular flavor, he grabbed the first can his fingers closed around. When he lifted it out, he saw that it was root beer. Good enough. He’d never had this particular brand, but suddenly he wanted a root beer float. It sounded tasty.

Would Shanna want a soda? He hesitated, then reached back inside the cooler and took another can. Same kind.

Had she had enough time to think? Maybe he should go after her, offer her the drink, and talk her into coming back to roast hotdogs with him.

He walked around the barn and into the fields but saw no sign of her. She’d disappeared.

Perhaps she’d returned to the frolic, and he’d missed her. He hadn’t looked for her there, figuring she’d be where he’d left her.

Silly of him.

He returned to the area in back of the house. A few girls played football in the field, but none of them was dressed in the shade of blue that Shanna wore that evening. The volleyball game was in full swing. Matthew stopped to watch for a while. No sign of Shanna there, either.

Sighing, he glanced at the faces of the people standing around the fire.

Still no Shanna.

Disappointment and hurt that she would leave without telling him weighed heavily on his heart. And he felt the nagging fear that she’d accepted a ride from another bu at the frolic. It was possible she’d gone on a walk with someone else. Probably what had happened.

She was beautiful. Buwe would notice her. And, since she wore an Amish dress, no one would know that she’d jumped the fence unless he recognized her. But the Shultz farm was teeming with young people from several different districts, so there were probably plenty of buwe who didn’t know her.

That might explain everything. He’d have to be careful not to let his jealousy show. After all, he didn’t own her.

His spirits plummeting, he set one can on the ground, opened the other, and took a long swig. Then, he set that down, too, and merged into the volleyball game. He’d told her where he’d be. Maybe she’d come find him.

***

At the end of the driveway, Shanna stepped out onto the road, then hesitated. Where was she? She looked around and recognized the Kropf farm ahead. The clothes she’d washed still hung on the line, and she didn’t see any sign of the family.

She hadn’t intended to come out here—at least, not consciously. She glanced back in the direction of the Shultz farm and heard the faint sounds of laughter. She wasn’t ready to go back there yet. She wanted to think about what Matthew’s suggestion would entail, and whether she could even consider following through with it.

The way her eyes were watering, she probably needed a good cry, too, but she’d rather that happen without anyone to witness her humiliation. She preferred people seeing her happy. Not moping and sad. She shouldn’t have agreed to attend the frolic. Not in her current mood, anyway.

Her day was messed up beyond belief. It had started off great, with the flirting, which had actually been wonderful, and then
the kiss
, which had been beyond amazing. But it had gone swiftly downhill from there. She still struggled to find her footing on the uneven road, and, she supposed, in relation to Matthew.

If only someone would make all her decisions for her. She closed her eyes. For a moment, she was tempted to pray, to ask God for His guidance, but she squashed the urge. Back at school, she’d attended church on occasion so she could tell Mamm that, jah, she’d found a good church. But it was extremely liberal compared to her Old Order Amish upbringing. The parishioners lived like the rest of the world; they drove cars, talked on cell phones, used computers, and wore blue jeans. And it wasn’t a big deal to them whether you came every Sunday or not. Shanna hadn’t told Mamm about any of that, though.

The Lord had turned into the God of her father, and since she didn’t get along well with Daed, she had every reason to believe that God was out to beat her down, too. What did He care about her?

The last time she’d prayed? Possibly the day she’d come home. But, nein. She’d merely tried then.

Or maybe it had been this very morning, when Matthew had pressed her head into a bowing position. Had she actually prayed then? Other than to ask God to give her Matthew?

He probably shouldn’t have granted that request.

She sighed.
Will the real Shanna Stoltzfus please stand up?

Life seemed infinitely less confusing in the fancy world. She attended school, worked at her job, studied, and hung out with her friends. There was none of this “You’re going to marry me” business. No one telling her, “You’re going to return to the Amish.” And definitely none of this “Kum home, Shanna, and be a midwife” stuff.

She’d sacrificed everything to follow her dreams. It wasn’t fair to expect her to come home before she’d fulfilled them. It wasn’t fair to—

A horse whinnied, and she opened her eyes, disoriented. Where was she? She looked around. Ach, at the Kropf farm. Still no sign of anyone. She turned to head back to the frolic, but the clothes on the line caught her attention again. It wouldn’t take but a moment to fold them and place the basket by the front door.

As she approached the clothesline, she saw that the wringer washer still sat on the lawn where Amos had set it. She’d hated it, but she’d handled it okay. She fingered a shirt hanging on the line. Dry. She unpinned it, folded it, and dropped it into the plastic basket on the ground.

“You came back.” The gravelly voice came from behind her.

Shanna gasped but didn’t turn around. She knew it was Amos. “I hate to leave a job unfinished.” That was a lie. But what else could she say? That she’d rather fold laundry than attend a frolic?

“Commendable. I’ll give you a ride home when you finish, then.”

Shanna kept her back to him. “Danki.” She heard him walk toward the barn. Ride home with Amos Kropf? Suddenly, she wanted to run away. Maybe back to Matthew and the frolic. She gritted her teeth. She would stay here until the work was done.

When all of the clothes had been folded, she carried the basket inside, then cleared up the supper dishes, making sure the kitchen would be clean for the next day. Would Amos do the grocery shopping? Or did he expect her to, as the maud? She’d have to ask.

She felt a tug on her dress. “Read me a story?” It was the littlest bu. He handed her a worn copy of a book. Overdue to the library, according to the date on the white slip.

She pulled out a kitchen chair, checked the area for spiders, and then sat, cuddling the bu in her lap. “What’s your name?”

“Daed calls me the wee one, but my teacher calls me Samuel.”

Shanna smiled. “Samuel it is.” She opened the book. “Once upon a time….”

It was well past dark when Amos finally stopped the buggy at the end of Daed’s drive, a courting tradition Shanna was glad he’d chosen to observe, because Matthew wouldn’t see who had brought her home. If he was still awake. He’d probably gone to bed hours ago. She glanced at the house and didn’t see any lamps glowing. She’d planned to sit with the family for devotions tonight, as she had when she’d still been at home, but that hadn’t happened. Instead, she’d had devotions with the Kropfs and waited while most of the buwe had been tucked in before Amos had hitched up the buggy to take her home.

He came around to her side and helped her out, his thumb grazing the top of her hand as he did. She resisted the urge to yank her arm away. “Danki, Shanna. Appreciate your help. You’ll be a gut fr—maud.”

Had he started to say “frau”? As in, his frau? Shanna shuddered.
Frau. Right.
She then remembered what she’d wanted to ask him. “You’re out of groceries. Were you going to do the shopping, or would you like me to?”

He hesitated a second. “I hired Janna Kauffman to do all the shopping. She is an Amish woman for hire for the infirm and widowers in the community. Lives down the road, and,” he chuckled, “loves to shop. Her buggy is always loaded full. She should be by the haus tomorrow with my order.”

Shanna stepped away. “Do you want me to kum back tomorrow? I have to work second shift at the restaurant, but I could kum to your haus afterward.” On second thought, she’d promised Matthew she’d go fishing with him and his friends.

Amos eyed her clothes. “I thought you’d returned.”

She raised her eyebrows but didn’t respond.

Finally, he shook his head. “Monday will be gut. Whenever you have the time.”

Shanna nodded, turned, and hurried through the darkness down the drive toward the barn.

When she slipped inside, a form moved out of the shadows near her apartment door. She froze.

Her heartbeat escalated when she saw that the door to her apartment loft was open.

A scream started to materialize, but a hand slid over her mouth, muffling the sound.

Matthew tightened his grip on Shanna’s mouth. He didn’t want her to scream. It would scare the livestock and possibly wake the other members of the family, if they were even asleep. They’d been pretty concerned when they’d found out that Shanna had gone missing during the frolic. Deborah had made a brief reference to the time she’d run away, and she’d looked extremely worried, but Levi had assured her that Shanna was probably fine.

Now, Shanna twisted violently in his arms. She hit him hard in the stomach with something—maybe her elbow—and stomped down on his bare toes with a tennis-shoe-clad foot. When her palm slammed into his nose, mercifully not head-on, Matthew clamped his lips together to keep from howling in pain. He released her quickly, his hands flying to his nose to stanch the inevitable flow of blood. “What was that for, Shanna?” Pressing his nostrils shut with one hand, he reached with the other inside his pocket and whipped out his handkerchief.

“Matthew?”