The Amish Bride (7 page)

It was a good face, serious but honest, with strong features and striking eyes. She’d always liked Neziah’s dark eyes with their varying shades of brown. When Neziah’s gaze locked with hers, she had always known he was giving her his entire attention, that he would listen and give serious thought to what she was telling him. Listen, but not be moved from his own position, she reminded herself.

“Neziah, I... I wasn’t expecting you to... This isn’t what I was expecting at all.” She gave a little laugh. “I thought you wanted to tell me you weren’t interested in our fathers’ proposal.”

“I’m not.”

She blinked. She was beginning to feel like she was going too fast on a merry-go-round at the state fair. “I’m confused.”

“I’m
not
interested in our fathers’ proposal. I’ve thought this over. I think you and I should begin courting and you should tell my brother to look elsewhere for a wife. The two of you wouldn’t be suited for marriage. I’ve been praying a long time over this and I think
Gott
has answered my prayers. You’re the wife for me, Ellen.”

She drew back a bit. She didn’t like being told what she should do and certainly not by Neziah. “I can’t tell Micah I won’t see him, Neziah. He was at my house first thing this morning to give me a ride to work. He’s very interested in courting me. I told my father... I told Micah I’d consider you both.”

He stared at her for a moment, then the smallest hint of a smile appeared. “So you’re saying you
would
consider marrying me? You still care for me, don’t you?”

This was more like the old Neziah she had always known, trying to force his opinions, his way on her. And yet, not the same. The man she had known, the man she had almost married, had not been one to talk about feelings. Anyone’s. “I’ll admit no such thing.” She felt heat rising in her cheeks, and she got up from the bench.

“Of course you won’t. Not yet at least.” Another smile. Then he stood. “Joel! Asa! Time to go.” He turned to Ellen. “I’m going to go inside and grab the things we need. Meet you out front with the boys?”

She nodded. Once he had gone into the store, she gathered the two little boys and then walked out to the sidewalk. Neziah joined them, carrying a paper grocery sack. The four of them walked the short distance back to the craft shop in silence.

“I’ll get your scooter,” Neziah said when they reached his wagon. He dropped the groceries into the back. “Is it on the porch?” He didn’t sound upset with her. In fact, he sounded pleased with himself.

Walking back to the craft store, Ellen had considered turning down Neziah’s offer of a ride home. Right now all she wanted was to be alone and think about what he had said. Neziah was in love with her? Still in love with her, according to him. Was that possible? And how did she feel about him? The truth was, she didn’t know. She definitely needed some time by herself, but refusing his ride home seemed childish. “I can get my scooter,” she said. “I want to make certain the inner door is locked, anyway.” She hurried up onto the back porch landing and then inside.

The freezers were to the right, and she always parked her push scooter against the wall across from them. As she reached down to grab the handlebars of her scooter, her foot struck something and set it spinning away, making a loud clattering sound. It was a soda can. Apparently, someone who’d come to access the freezer space had forgotten it. Ellen tossed the can into the recycle container, went back for her scooter and pushed it out the back door.

Neziah was just coming up the back steps. “I’ll take that.”

He stowed the scooter in the back of the wagon and then helped her up onto the wagon seat.

The boys were unusually well behaved on the way home. Neziah didn’t have much to say, which was fine with Ellen because she’d had quite enough honest talk with him for one day. Her mind was flying in so many directions that she had to take a breath and try to relax and enjoy the summer evening ride, listening to the familiar sounds of the mule’s hooves striking the blacktop.

When they arrived safely at her door, she thanked him for the ice cream and the ride home. She said her goodbyes to Asa and Joel and was about to walk away when Neziah called after her, “Will I see you at the widows’ supper tomorrow night?” he asked.

She turned back to him. “
Jah
, I’ll be helping out.”

Normally, she would work late on Thursday evening, but the English high-schooler she’d just hired would work until closing.

“Goot. Goot,”
Neziah repeated. “See you there, then.”

She watched him climb into the wagon; as he headed down the driveway, he touched the brim of his hat and offered the warmest smile. It wasn’t big and full of joy like Micah’s; it was... Ellen couldn’t think how to describe it.

“Ellen?”

Her mother’s voice startled her, and she turned to see her standing on the front porch.

“Did Neziah bring you home from the store?”

“
Jah
, he did. I went for ice cream with him and the boys.”

Her mother flapped her apron at a stray chicken. “Shoo! Shoo! Get away from my flowers!” She descended the wooden steps and chased the black-and-white hen away from the porch. “Pesky birds. Why your father wants to keep chickens I don’t know. All the time they scratch, scratch, scratch at my flowers.”

Ellen pushed the scooter toward the shed. “Maybe it would be better to keep them in the pen,
Mam
.” The poultry was her mother’s and had always been her mother’s. In the fall, her mother had always raised extra ducks to sell to other Amish families for the holiday meals. Ellen knew it would be a waste of time to remind her mother that her
dat
didn’t let the hens out of the chicken coop, she did. And it was her father who had often said that the chickens were too much work for her
mam
. But her
mam
loved her chickens and could not be persuaded to part with any of them, other than the old hens that went into the stewing pot or the young roosters that ended their lives as Sunday dinner.

By the time she’d put the scooter away, her mother had returned to the porch and was sitting on the steps with her feet in a pan of soapy water. It was another of her mother’s odd habits; in spite of having two perfectly good bathrooms in the house, she liked to wash her feet outside at the end of the day. It was fine in summer, but one day in March, Ellen had come home to find her mam soaking her feet on the porch. The afternoon had been a bitter one, but her mother hadn’t seemed to notice that it was too cold for bare feet, let alone washing them outside.

Ellen sat down on the steps next to her. “Tomorrow night is the widows’ haystack supper. We’ll be eating there, so you won’t have to cook anything for supper tomorrow.”

Her mother smiled and nodded. “I won’t forget. They’re raising money for that baby, the one in the hospital in Philadelphia. Poor little
bubbel
.
We should all remember him in our prayers. You were always a healthy child,
Gott
be thanked. We were not so fortunate with the others, but you came plump as a partridge, screaming to bring the roof down.” Her
mam
patted her hand. “A
goot
girl always. Never a trouble to your parents.” She chuckled. “Other than to be so choosy about picking a husband. Happy we are to see you courting Neziah.”

Ellen glanced at her mother. “I’m not courting Neziah,” she corrected gently. “Or his brother, Micah.”

Her mother’s eyes widened in distress. “But...” she stammered. “They came to supper. Simeon said... Your father said...” Her eyes narrowed and her jaw firmed. “I’m sure you agreed to marry—” she thought for a minute “—one of them,” she finished. She looked at her daughter, obviously confused. “Here’s Neziah bringing you home. Taking you for ice cream. What are we supposed to think?”

Ellen slipped an arm around her mother. “You’re supposed to think I had ice cream with a neighbor and his boys. And before anyone else tells you, Micah drove me to Honeysuckle this morning in his buggy.”

Her mother’s mouth gaped open and she clasped her hands. “You’re courting
both
of them?
Nay. Nay.
” She shook her head. “That will not do. You must remember what is decent for a respectable young woman. Decide between them. One or the other, but not both Shetler boys. What will the bishop say?”

“What will the bishop say about what?” Her father stepped out on the porch.

“
Mam
thinks I’m walking out with both Micah and Neziah.” Ellen rose off the step. “I told her that Micah drove me to the shop, and Neziah brought me home.”

Her father raised an eyebrow. “Neziah did, did he?”

Ellen threw her father a look of warning. “But I’ve not agreed to court either of them yet,” she said firmly. “I just said I’d...” She searched for the right phrase. “I said I’d get to know them and
consider
courting one of them.”

“One of them, now, is it?” her father asked. “I thought you said you wouldn’t consider Neziah.”

“You must speak to her, John,” her mother fussed as she removed her feet from the basin. “You must tell her that people will talk if she runs up and down the roads with two beaus at the same time.”

He took her mother’s arm. Ellen picked up a towel from a chair and handed it to him.

“Not to worry, Mary. Our Ellen will do the right thing. She always does.”

Her mother sat down on the chair, took the towel and began to dry her feet. Ellen dumped the water from the basin into the flower bed. “I’m not worrying,” her mother fussed. “It’s an easy choice. Such a
goot
-looking young man, that Micah. Such nice hair. If I were her age and still single, I tell you, John, I would not be thinking too long. Some other girl will snatch him up, and she’ll have to take the older one.”

Her
dat
winked. “So you think our Ellen should marry Micah because of his nice hair?” he teased.

“
Jah
, yellow hair like Joel’s. It’s like spring butter. So sweet you just want to pinch his cheeks.”

“Joel’s or Micah’s?” her father asked innocently.

Her mother gasped and her hands flew to her cheeks. “
Vadder!
To say such a thing. The little boy. You know what I meant. Little Joel.” She sputtered. “All the time, you make jokes, but this is serious. Our daughter must marry, and she has a nice young man who wants to court her and she has to be difficult.”

“When she could have a suitor with butter-yellow hair?” Ellen’s father asked. Then he chuckled. “Let her be,
Mutter
. She’s a sensible girl. She will do nothing to shame us or herself.”

Ellen made eye contact with her father, deciding to simply not address his question about Neziah. “I’m promising nothing,” she reminded him. “Just thinking on the matter.”

“It’s all we ask,” he replied. “Nothing would make us happier than to see you make a good marriage and nothing would make us sadder than to see you enter a bad one.” He held open the door for her mother. “Now, can we go in and have supper before my lima beans and dumplings are cold as last winter’s turnips?”

Chapter Six

O
rdinarily, suppers and other fund-raisers in the community were held in an Amish home, the same as worship services. Naomi Beiler, leader of the widows’ group, often hosted the widows’ benefit affairs, but due to the large number of people expected, she and the other members had decided to serve the meal at one of Honeysuckle’s Amish schools. That evening was a haystack supper, a community favorite that provided sustenance and fun for everyone.

“Naomi thinks that we may have a lot of outsiders at the supper,” Saloma Hochstetler said to Ellen as the two set plates, glasses and utensils on the first of the long tables set up under the trees. “And an Amish family from Delaware is here visiting relatives. They’ve been in Ohio with their family, and are on their way home to Kent County. Have you met them? Charley and Miriam Byler? She’s about my age. They have the sweetest little boy. And Miriam is so friendly. You’ll like her.”

“I heard they were coming, but I haven’t met them yet,” Ellen answered, setting down another fork. “I’ll be certain to look for them. We want to make them welcome.”

Visiting between Amish communities and friends and families was one of the joys of Plain life. Often people would travel hundreds, even thousands of miles to spend time together. It was always wonderful to exchange news with those who shared the Amish faith from other communities in other states.

“It’s not too hot tonight. There’s a breeze, so there’ll be no mosquitoes. Perfect, don’t you think?” Saloma moved along her side of the table, keeping pace with Ellen and continued prattling on.

Ellen smiled. It was difficult to keep her mind on what her friend was saying when all she could think of was the possibility of her looming courtship and marriage, or, she corrected herself, her
possible
courtship and marriage. A flash of heat under her skin made her swallow hard.

Micah or Neziah? She was so certain she and Neziah weren’t well suited, but after having ice cream with him the previous day, she wasn’t as sure. There was something about him that had stayed with her long after they parted.

She was dying to say something to Saloma about the Shetler boys and the agreement she had made with her father concerning them. It would have been a relief to share her confusion—to tell Saloma about the frank conversation she and Micah had had when fishing. About how Neziah had declared that he loved her over ice cream in broad daylight, but she couldn’t bring herself to talk about anything so intimate, not even to a dear friend.

Saloma could be trusted not to gossip, but how could Ellen confide in her when she didn’t know her own feelings? She’d already told Micah she would consider courting him. She’d made up her mind that she would not consider Neziah. But then, being with Neziah had stirred up emotions and memories that she’d thought she’d put behind her. She’d barely been able to sleep a wink.

Love. Neziah had said he loved her.
He’d sounded sincere, and she’d have given anything to hear that from his lips years ago when they were courting...when they’d almost agreed to have the banns called. How was it possible that he felt this way about her after so long and after all that had happened since: Neziah’s marriage, having children, losing his wife in that terrible accident? It didn’t seem possible.

“Lizzie told me—” Saloma rolled her eyes, pulling Ellen back into the moment. “Are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

“
Jah
, I am,” Ellen said hastily. “Sorry.”

“I was saying that the widows put up signs advertising the supper at the restaurant and the general store and the post office. One of the newspapers ran a story on the Blauch baby and how he’s in the hospital, so that should bring in more of our neighbors from Lancaster County, English and Mennonite. You know, the regulars who always support our suppers and breakfasts.”

“
Jah.
And maybe some tourists will come, as well.” Ellen folded a snowy-white cloth napkin beside each place setting. One of Dinah’s granddaughters was coming behind them, putting ice in the glasses. Children raced around the tables in spite of their mothers’ warnings to not get in the way, and a girl of eleven or twelve years of age sat on the grass urging a chubby toddler to take his first steps. Inside the schoolhouse kitchen, Anne Stoltzfus was frying ground meat with sloppy joe seasoning, and wonderful smells drifted through the open window. “The widows should have a
goot
turnout.”

Saloma grimaced. “I suppose, but you know sometimes those strangers don’t respect Amish privacy. My
Endie
Rhody had two
Englisher
tourist women walk into her house last week and start taking photographs with one of those telephones that’s a camera. Can you believe it?”

Ellen shifted the basket of silverware from one arm to the other. “Your aunt? Really? Which Aunt Rhody?” Saloma had two aunts named Rhody, one who lived in the next church district over and another near Bird-In-Hand.

“Menno’s Rhody, the one with bushy eyebrows and the seven boys. Anyway, my
endie
was gathering eggs in her henhouse. She heard a car pull up. You know Uncle Menno sells those funny yard spinners that look like horses and buggies. The wheels and the horses’ feet move when the wind blows. Anyway, the English buy them all the time. Nineteen dollars for a little one. Well, before my
Endie
Rhody could get to the house, she heard the kitchen screen door slam.”

Ellen hadn’t heard about the incident, but she knew of others that were similar. Still, it never ceased to amaze her how insensitive some people could be when they were away from home. “Your aunt found them actually
inside
her house? What did she say to them?”

“I don’t know exactly, but she shooed them out and sent them on their way. They— Oh, look who’s coming! It’s Micah Shetler.
Nay
, don’t let him know you’re looking!” Saloma grabbed Ellen’s arm and cut her eyes in the direction of the road. “I knew he’d be here,” she whispered excitedly, still holding on to Ellen. “Isn’t he just the cutest thing?”

Ellen glanced at the horse and buggy turning into the schoolyard. That was definitely the Shetlers’ family buggy and Samson was pulling it.
“Jah,”
she agreed. “That’s Micah.”

“Isn’t that horse of his beautiful?” Saloma demanded. “If he asked to drive me home, I wouldn’t know what to say.” She let go of Ellen. “I wish he would. Agnes went out with him a few times, with other couples, not a
date
date. And she said Micah’s sweet, not wild, like some people say. But my
mam
would have a hen if I started walking out with Micah. She thinks he’s not Plain enough. You know, because he’s almost thirty and not baptized yet. My mother thinks that’s a disgrace.”

Ellen wished she had said something to her friend about her predicament with the Shetler brothers earlier. Saloma finding out later that Micah had driven her to Honeysuckle and that Neziah had driven her home the previous day would be even more awkward to explain now. And Saloma would learn about it. Nothing got by her for long. She would find out, and she would ask why Ellen had kept it a secret. But Saloma babbled on without seeming to notice that Ellen hadn’t said anything.

“But you know Micah really well,” Saloma continued. She’d paused in setting the table, resting one hand on her hip. As much as Ellen loved Saloma, sometimes her constant chattering and abundant gestures were a bit much. “You’re neighbors, and you and Neziah used to walk out together. You know the Shetlers. What do you think? Should I set my
kapp
for Micah?” She chuckled. “Would he make a good husband for me, do you think?” She fluttered her lashes dramatically, making Ellen giggle, too.

Micah drove his horse to the open shed and got out of the buggy. As he was tying Samson to the rail, Bishop Andy approached him with a smiling stranger that Ellen thought might be the visitor, Charley Byler. The three began a conversation.

Ellen moved on to the next table. She hoped Micah would keep his distance at the supper. At least, she
thought
she did. As much as she hated to admit it, a tiny part of her was pleased with Micah’s attention. But she didn’t want it to cause hard feelings with Saloma.

Only in her midtwenties, Saloma was far from being an old maid, but she worried constantly that no one would ever ask to court her. Apparently, her old community in upper New York State had a shortage of available young men, and Saloma was one of five girls, all but one of marriageable age. Since their arrival in Honeysuckle two years ago, an older sister had married and another, two years younger, had just had her banns cried for a November wedding.

Saloma was a nice-enough-looking girl with blue eyes, rosy cheeks and a dimple in her chin. Her curly hair was tucked into an untidy bun that seemed ready to come down at any moment, and her silver, wire-rim glasses usually perched precariously on her nose. Other than Saloma’s habit of talking nonstop, Ellen could see no reason why she didn’t have more beaus. She was hardworking, good-natured and vivacious, though she did, sometimes, appear too eager to like others of the opposite sex and be liked in return. Ellen’s
mam
thought that Saloma bordered on being fast, but Ellen knew better. Saloma’s flirting was harmless, and she would have been shocked and hurt if she suspected anyone thought otherwise.

More buggies were arriving, as well as families on foot. The night’s fare was a haystack supper, which meant that food tables would be set buffet-style with huge bowls of seasoned ground meat, shredded cheese, cooked rice, shredded lettuce, onions, tomatoes, peas, raw shredded carrots, chopped celery, green peppers, sliced pineapple, crumbled potato chips, Ritz crackers and corn chips and sunflower seeds. Guests could choose any combination they wanted and top it with melted cheese, salad dressing or sour cream.

Serving at a haystack meal was easy because each person took his or her own plate, helped themselves and returned to the table, where pitchers of iced tea, lemonade and ice water were readily available, as well as yeast rolls, butter and homemade jams and jellies. Part of the fun of the evening’s meal was that, unlike Sunday communal dinners, there was no hierarchy in seating arrangements. Tonight the only rule was that everyone ate together, and people sat male, female, male, female. It didn’t matter if you were married or single; the point was to interact with friends, guests and relatives in a relaxed atmosphere and make everyone feel welcome. Ellen hoped to keep busy in the kitchen or refilling the bowls of haystack filling. Thus, she reasoned, she could tactfully avoid being seated next to either of the Shetler brothers. Unfortunately, her wish wasn’t to be.

No sooner had Ellen and Saloma helped to carry out the last bowl of cheese sauce than Dinah appeared behind them, thanked them for their help and waved them toward a half-empty table of younger people. “You girls go on and enjoy yourselves,” she urged. “It was kind of you to help out, but it’s time you had some fun.”

“But you may need someone to go for refills,” Ellen offered.

Dinah chuckled. “I believe Lizzie, Naomi and I can handle that, dear. You two go along now. Find some nice young man and sit by him.”

“You heard her,” Saloma whispered when Dinah bustled away to seat an English family who’d just arrived. “Maybe I can find an empty seat next to Micah or that sweet Abram Peachy. He was dating someone from one of the other church districts, but I heard she’s going with a stone mason from Bird-In-Hand now.”

“You’d better hurry,” Ellen said. “If Abram’s available again, he won’t be for long. Look, there he is.” She smiled at Saloma and moved away.

There was quite a crowd gathering for the fund-raiser. Ellen spotted Neziah’s Joel seated between two girls; she didn’t see Neziah, Micah or little Asa. She drifted toward the place where the elders were seated, noting that her mother and father, Bishop Andy and a local Mennonite couple had settled at a table. Simeon was there, as well, Asa on his knee. Dr. Gruwell, a popular pediatrician who made house calls to the Amish, was laughing at something Ellen’s
mam
had just said, and his wife was deep in conversation with Neziah and Micah’s
Grossmutter
Lydia.

Where to sit?
Ellen’s gaze drifted beyond the schoolhouse to an orchard. When she was small and troubled, she would retreat to a big black cherry tree at the edge of the woods line. She would climb high into the branches, find her favorite fork in the trunk and sit there looking out at the valley until she figured out a solution. She’d loved the solitude, the peaceful sound of the birds and the stirring of green leaves around her. What she needed was an hour or two in a treetop to think.

So many decisions to make...

First, did she want to be married to one of the Shetler boys? Second, which one would she prefer, Micah or Neziah? Marriage to Micah would never be dull. They had so much in common, and their household would always be merry. Or, should she try to reclaim what she’d once felt for Neziah? She sighed. Round and round like a snapping turtle in a barrel. Her thoughts kept coming back to memories that she’d tried so hard to erase.

“Ellen! Come here a moment.” Dinah motioned from the end of the food table. “I want you to meet this couple from Delaware.” When Ellen joined them, Dinah introduced her to Charley and Miriam Byler.

“It’s good to have you here with us,” Ellen said. As Saloma had told her, both Charley and Miriam were friendly. Ellen liked them at once. “Don’t you have a little boy?”

“We do.” Miriam laughed, taking a chair beside her husband. “But he’s making the rounds with his cousins, Ava and Zoey King, and I can’t seem to get him back. I wish I could scoop the twins up and take them back to Seven Poplars with me. He’s a handful, and they’re wonderful with him.”

“Wayne King and Charley are cousins,” Dinah explained. “The Bylers are staying with the Kings.”

“Would you like to sit with us?” Miriam asked. Ellen nodded, and she, Miriam and Charley proceeded to take their plates to the buffet tables. Miriam chatted on, telling about their extended vacation, first to Ohio to see an aging aunt, and then to Honeysuckle. “Believe me, Charley will be busy when we get home. My brothers-in-law and my stepfather have filled in for him on the farm. But my sister Anna will be having a baby next month, and I’d like to give her a hand with canning. Still—” she sighed “—it’s been fun seeing all the family and all the sights.”