SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1 (31 page)

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Authors: Beverly Lewis

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I popped up like I’d been shot out of a cannon. “Hi, Levi,” I called to him. “What are you doing here?”

“I should ask you the same question, jah?” He tipped his hat flirtatiously.

My brain was definitely out of commission, but I must not have been aware of it then. I stooped to pick up my water bottle and camera case and proceeded to walk over to the road. To Levi.

“Well, now, Merry, wouldja care for a lift home?” he asked, glancing heavenward. As if on cue, a thunderclap made me jump.

“I…uh, better not. But thanks,” I said, gazing at his beautiful black buggy.

“It’s all right, Merry. Honest.” He leaned forward, his foot on the rim, extending his hand to me. I had to admit he looked handsome in his Sunday best, his light brown bangs peeking out of his black wide-brimmed hat. Very handsome, now that I thought about it.

Hesitant, I asked, “What if someone sees you with me? Won’t you be in trouble?”

He laughed, suddenly displaying an umbrella. “Not for being neighborly.”

I smiled. He had a point.

“What about my bike?” I glanced over my shoulder.

“Easy as pie,” he said. “It’ll fit.” And he jumped down and went with me to retrieve it.

“Well, I guess you win this time,” I said.

When my bike was finally situated, Levi helped me into the front of his buggy. I sat beside him to his left and caught the scent of sweet aftershave. Had he seen me leave my house earlier? Had he planned this encounter?

Feeling shy, I looked down and noticed the slate-gray wall-towall carpeting on the floor. A large speedometer attached to a minidashboard on the right side was planted directly in front of Levi.

Quickly, he opened the umbrella. “It’s starting to rain,” he said, holding it over our heads with one hand.

I glanced at the dark sky from my sheltered perch, still surprised that I’d allowed myself to do this. “Thanks for the ride,” I said for courtesy’s sake. Yet I felt safe and protected next to Levi. Nothing like the way I thought it would be riding in an open buggy on a rainy Sunday.

Levi turned to face me under our private canopy. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this, Merry.” The serious look in his eyes took me off guard.

Then, gallantly, he picked up the reins with his other hand and
gently
trotted his beautiful Morgan horse up the road toward SummerHill.

Chapter
11

All the way up Hunsecker Mill Road, Levi and I talked. There was plenty of time for it. The pace of horse and buggy transportation wasn’t exactly speedy at twelve miles per hour—and that was pushing it.

Under the menacing rain clouds, Levi and I talked about everything. I never realized how much we had in common. He truly loved nature. He appreciated the beauty of the earth-brown soil, the golden corn tassels, and the blue of his alfalfa field—together creating a colorful patchwork quilt.

“Have ya seen the mint leaves growing over in the meadow behind the barn?” Levi asked, full of questions. “Have ya seen the sun setting behind the Yoders’ tobacco shed?”

I waited till the flow of questions stopped. “It’s going to be a beautiful summer,” I said at last.

“Jah,” he agreed. “It could be a wonderful-
gut
summer.” He slowed the horse from a trot to a leisurely walk, still holding the umbrella over our heads.

I wondered why we were slowing down.

“Merry,” he said, turning to me. “I want to know something.”

My hands felt clammy in my lap.

Levi didn’t smile as he spoke. “I like ya, Merry. Always have.”

I gave a soft little laugh, remembering our childhood pranks. The rope swing in the hayloft. The fun of growing up next to a houseful of Amish kids. “We’ve been good friends for a long time,” I said.

“But I must know your true answer.”

“To what?”

Levi pulled on the reins with his free hand, halting his horse right there in the middle of the road. He paused a second, studying me. “Merry, will ya be my girl?”

Any other time I would’ve been shocked by such a question. But sitting here, sharing our interests and talking freely the way we had, his question seemed like a semi-reasonable request.

His eyes were sincere and made me feel shy. I responded by looking down at my lap, speechless.

“Merry?” His voice pursued me.

I looked up slowly. “There’s a lot to think about, Levi. For one thing, you’re Amish. Remember what happened to your friend Ben Fisher?”

He shrugged. “Ben did some terrible, awful things, but you…you and me, we’re friends from long past.”

“Still, how could you think of dating an English girl?” It was the argument I’d brought up two days ago in the potato field.

“I’m not thinking of dating an English girl.” His face broke into a broad grin. “I want to spend time with
you
.”

“And I’m English.” I sighed. “Besides, I’m too young to be courted.”

“Merry, we’d just be getting to know each other better. And I will be busy working the farm this summer, ya know. There won’t be much time for—”

“What are you saying?”

“Amish boys see their girls every other Saturday night and sometimes after Sunday night singings. They go for a long drive.”

I leaned back, giving him an honest-to-goodness straightforward look. “Oh, so
that’s
it.” I laughed. “You intend to hide me under the stars.”

He grinned. “We always keep such things secret. That’s our way. But I would not hide ya purposely from the view of my parents.”

I understood. All Amish dating and courtship was conducted under the covering of night. No one ever really knew whom an Amish boy was seeing until the
Schteckliman
or go-between verified an engagement of marriage with the bride-to-be and her parents. Levi and his people had been doing things the same way for three hundred years.

“But what would happen if you were seen with me?” I asked, still curious about Levi’s willingness to risk being caught.

“It won’t happen,” he said firmly.

“And if it did?”

Levi let the reins drop over his right knee. He steadied the umbrella with both hands, leaning close to me. “I am not certain about my future as an Amishman,” he said, almost in a whisper. “Baptism into the church would change everything for me, Merry. For now, I am free to decide, don’tcha see?”

This was serious talk. I felt uneasy hearing Levi discuss his uncertainties. “What about the girls in your crowd?” I asked. “Won’t they wonder why you’re not asking them out?”

Levi picked up the reins with his right hand, still holding the umbrella over my head. “There are no Amish girls for me, Merry.” He looked away, suddenly paying more attention to the road ahead.

A car was coming in the opposite lane, and for the first time since I’d consented to ride with Levi, I felt nervous. Worried for him, I slouched a bit, hoping the driver wouldn’t see me.

The red sports car sped past us, and I felt a light spray. The rain had stopped beating down on us now, but the road glistened from the afternoon shower. A gentle drizzle made the ride in Levi’s buggy even more enchanting.

Suddenly, I realized who the red car belonged to. Miss Spindler—Old Hawk Eyes herself!

My throat went dry thinking about the nosy neighbor who lived behind my house. If she had spotted me with Levi just now, we were as good as published on the front page of the
Lancaster New Era
!

“I could leave the Sunday singin’ early and come getcha,” Levi was saying.

“Only if I agree to it.”

He nodded solemnly, playing along with me.

Then I giggled, thinking about the snazzy red sports car and its owner. “That was Miss Spindler back there, in case you didn’t know.”

“Ach, she’s harmless,” he said. “What good would it do for her to tell on us?”

“Oh, you might be surprised. Old Hawk Eyes lives for the opportunity to spy on her neighbors.”

A chuckle escaped Levi’s lips. “Well, then, our problem is solved, isn’t it?”

I was totally confused. “What problem?”

“If she saw us, then everything’s already out in the open.” His eyes were shining. “No more worries, jah?”

“Maybe not for you.” I shook my head, thinking about Mom and Dad. What would
they
think if I consented to go out with an Amish boy?

Chapter
12

When we approached the dirt lane leading to the Zook farm, I asked Levi to let me out. “Thanks for the ride,” I said, eyeing the speedometer on his makeshift dashboard. There was no question in my mind that he would’ve zipped down SummerHill if I hadn’t accepted the ride.

“I hope I’ll see ya again soon,” he said, bringing the horse to a stop.

“If the rains keep coming, maybe you will,” I joked, glancing at the sky. “I would’ve been soaked if you hadn’t come.”

He leaped into the back of the buggy to unload my bike. “Will ya give me your answer soon, Merry?”

“I’ll think about it,” I said, even though I had no idea what on earth there was to consider.

“Okay, then,” he said, smiling to beat the band. “I’ll say good-bye.”

“Bye, Levi. And thanks again.”

He sprang up into his buggy, lifted the reins, and sped toward his house. I giggled as I hopped on my bike. Zap ’em Zook was showing off again.

After I arrived home, I finished the remaining work required for my family history by making several phone calls to local relatives. It was actually fun doing the phone interviews, and since it was Sunday, most everyone was home and eager to chat about their life, reciting dates and details.

I was surprised that nearly all my Hanson relatives had heard about Joseph Lapp and his shunning.

Later, Mom gave me permission to call her sister long distance. Because Aunt Teri was deaf, I knew I’d be talking to Uncle Pete. He would sign the questions to his wife and she’d sign her responses back to him.

“Hello?” he answered the phone.

“Hi, Uncle Pete. This is your niece in Pennsylvania.”

“Well, how’s merry Merry doing these days?” He always said my name twice.

“I’m fine, thanks.” I explained that I was working on an assignment for school.

“Family trees, eh?” he said. “Well, we’re adding two more branches to
our
tree very soon.” Aunt Teri was expecting twins at the end of June. Both she and Uncle Pete were counting the days.

“How’s Aunt Teri feeling?” I asked.

“She has to rest a lot, but other than that, real fine.”

“I was wondering if Aunt Teri could answer some questions for my school project.”

“Let me check.” Uncle Pete went to find her. Soon he returned.

“I’m sorry, but your aunt’s sleeping soundly. Why don’t you give the questions to me, and I’ll jot them down and call you back tomorrow evening.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said.

One by one, I read my list of questions. When I finished, I thanked him for taking the time. “Let us know when the babies come.”

“We certainly will.”

I felt awkward, unsure of what to say next. Then I blurted, “Have you picked out names yet?”

The idea of having twin cousins seemed strange to me. Actually, I felt a total reluctance toward another set of twins in the family. Maybe I was hesitant for other reasons. Maybe I was afraid the advent of twin baby cousins would stir up suppressed memories of Faithie, neatly tucked away like her dresses and toys and things in the attic playroom.

Uncle Pete laughed, robust and jolly. “Oh, we’re still throwing names around. Any suggestions?”

Honestly, I hadn’t given it a single thought and didn’t really care to—but I would never let that on. My lack of enthusiasm might hurt Uncle Pete. “Maybe you should wait till after they’re born to see what names fit them.”

“That’s a terrific idea.” He continued to chuckle in the midst of our good-byes.

I hung up the phone and sat there in Dad’s study, staring into space.
Lord, help me accept Aunt Teri’s twin babies,
I prayed silently.

Maybe it would help if you’d let them turn out to be boys.

As for Levi Zook, I had no idea what to pray. I’d promised to give him an answer. What on earth was I thinking, accepting a ride in his buggy? I’d probably never live it down. He would take it as a good sign—that maybe I was actually thinking of accepting his invitation.

I thought back to the afternoon I’d spent with Levi. We’d discussed many things. And surprise, surprise, I had more in common with him than I’d ever dreamed.

Sitting back against the comforting fabric of Dad’s desk chair, I daydreamed about my bike ride to the covered bridge, the quiet moments on the riverbank, the pictures I’d taken…and the more I relived the day, the more I realized something. Something quite disturbing, actually. I
liked
Levi Zook.

I liked his rambunctious, carefree way. The way he could go from driving his buggy recklessly through the covered bridge, to gently trotting his horse in a spring shower with a modern girl at his side.

The boy was truly unconventional. He seemed to know what he wanted and went after it. And he was stubborn. Persistent, too. Joseph Lapp must’ve had some of the same personality traits.

Dad came into the room, and I popped out of my daydreaming. He looked refreshed after a long nap.

“Feeling better?” I asked.

“Forty winks can make a big difference.” He ran his fingers through his graying hair and yawned.

I almost brought up the subject of Levi Zook but chickened out and showed him my phone interviews instead.

“Come to think of it, we might have a book of family crests around here.” He surveyed his book shelf.

“That’d be great.”

He searched for the book, then located it. “Here we are.” He thumbed through the pages to the 1918 Hanson coat of arms. On the page was a full-color picture of the crest; a lion holding an antler in its forepaw was the focal point.

“Looks like the name Hanson spells courage,” Dad said proudly.

“Mind if I borrow this to make my sketch?”

“Help yourself.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I skedaddled off to my room to work on the artistic part of my project.

Lily White rubbed against my leg as I sat at my desk trying to concentrate. Finally, after persistent meowing from my cuddly kitten, I picked her up. “What do you want, baby?” She began to purr as I nuzzled her face with my hand.

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