by Amy Clipston
She also wasn’t surprised when she saw him talking to the young woman who had stopped by his table while he was still eating. Emphasis on young. She was also pretty. Leah, who had not only pointed out Priscilla’s future students but had also told her everyone’s name, introduced the young woman as Suetta. The girl had lingered at the table longer than she needed to, considering she was bringing around a jug of water for anyone who needed a drink. A green thread of envy had wound around Priscilla, and she didn’t like that one bit. Throwing herself into spreading gravel had been a good distraction.
By suppertime, the school building and the parking lot were finished. There was still more work to do on the inside of the building, but it wouldn’t take an entire day and the whole community to finish the job. Everyone was tired but satisfied. They packed up the tools and empty dishes they’d brought, gathered their families, and left for the day.
Priscilla was about to leave when she saw a small empty patch of dirt at the back edge of the parking lot. She didn’t bring a shovel with her, so instead she used her hands as she crouched down and evenly spread out the gravel. When she was finished, she brushed off her hands on her light-green dress, which was already dusty from the day’s work, and turned around. “Oh!” she said, as she almost bumped into Micah. She looked up at him. “I thought everyone had already left.”
“I wanted to finish up the back part of the boy’s restroom,” he said. He pushed back his hat, revealing his damp bangs. His shirt also had dark spots of perspiration on it, and his face was red from exertion.
But she didn’t mind any of that. She liked that she was back with people who did a good, honest day’s work. That hadn’t always been the case with the crowd she ran around with in Nashville. “I was just covering that last patch of dirt,” she said.
“I know. I saw you. Looks gut.” He put his hands on his waist, his tool belt slung low on his hips. “I heard you’re the new schoolteacher.”
“You heard right.” She stared at the brand-new building in front of her. “This is a wonderful building. Once everything is finished, my students and I are really going to enjoy it.”
“That’s gut to know. Makes all the work worthwhile.” He paused. “I, uh, wondered if you needed a ride home.”
Stunned, she wasn’t sure what to say. Although the day had been hot, clouds now cloaked the sky, cooling off the summer heat. She could walk the two miles back home but didn’t relish the idea. She was worn out, and now she just wanted to get home and put her feet up.
But what about the little flutter that had appeared in her chest again? And what about Suetta?
Now she was being absurd. She already knew Micah was a nice guy, and he’d offered her a ride home before. She’d be nuts not to accept. “I’d like that,” she said. “Danki.”
He grinned, and instead of simply fluttering, her heart skipped a beat. He had a great smile, straight, white teeth, and full cheeks that made her think of a big, cuddly teddy bear. Her gaze drifted to his arms and his impressive biceps. Oh boy. Maybe she should have refused the ride after all.
She followed him to his buggy, and as he untied his horse from the hitching rail she climbed inside. The interior was clean, and the seat was upholstered in a royal blue fabric. When she sat down, she noticed how comfortable the cushion was. She shifted her feet, and her heel struck something. When she looked down, she saw a shiny object next to her foot. As she picked it up, she realized it was a harmonica.
Micah stepped into the buggy and looked her way. His gaze shifted to the harmonica in her hand.
“I found it on the floor.” Priscilla handed it to him. “Do you play?”
He sat down and took the instrument from her. “Sometimes. It’s been a while. I guess I forgot I left it in here.” He examined the harmonica like he’d never seen one before.
The Ordnung back home had a rule against any instruments, including harmonicas. The way Micah reacted, she assumed Marigold didn’t have the same restrictions. It had been so long since she’d heard music, other than being in a big-box store with canned sounds over the store’s speakers. Priscilla couldn’t help herself. “Would you mind playing it now?”
“I can try.” He lifted the harmonica to his lips. “Like I said, it’s been a while.” He started to play, tentatively at first, as if he were getting used to the instrument again. Then he hit his stride.
She leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes, listening to the haunting tune he played. The music reminded her of bluegrass, one of her favorite music genres, especially when played in a minor key.
He finished the song, waving his hand over the harmonica as the note faded into oblivion. When he looked at her, his expression was apprehensive. “I guess I put you to sleep.”
She shook her head, then she turned to him. “Not at all. That was beautiful. What’s the name of the song?”
Micah shrugged. “I don’t know. I must have heard it somewhere when I was young because it didn’t take me long to learn the tune.” He rolled the harmonica in his hand. “I’ve missed playing this thing.”
“How long have you been playing? Who taught you how?” She sat up and angled her body toward him so she could face him.
“Mei daed showed me,” he said. “When I was about five or so. The district we lived in didn’t allow instruments, but he bought me a harmonica anyway and gave me lessons. The rule was that we could only play in the barn. I thought that was fair, and as I grew older, we would play duets. Mostly hymns, some old songs he knew when he was a kid.”
“Did you have sheet music?” she asked.
He frowned. “What’s that?”
“Music printed on a page. Like in our hymnals.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Nee, we just played. Sometimes I would geh out to the barn by myself and just make up some songs.”
“Can you play one now?” She thought for a quick second that she might be keeping him from plans he had at home. But the sweet music that came through his harmonica had touched her deeply, as all music did. That was the hardest thing to give up when she came back to her faith—the music she loved so much.
“Sure.”
Priscilla smiled, and Micah began to play. When he was a few bars in, she began to hum a few notes of melody, the pitch of her singing a little higher than the harmonica’s dulcet tones. It wasn’t long before she fully joined in with her improvised singing and his vibrant playing.
They finished at the same time, and he turned to her, amazement in his eyes. “How did you do that?” he asked.
“Do what?” She couldn’t help but smile.
“Whatever you were humming went perfectly with the song. It sounded beautiful too.”
She glanced down at her lap, warmed by his compliment. But it wasn’t just the words he’d said, but the way he looked at her, the music they’d made, and the coziness of being close to each other in the buggy. She shouldn’t be feeling such intense emotions so soon after they had just met, but she refused to question that right now. All that mattered was this beautiful feeling in her heart and soul, the spark when they first met already growing stronger. “Danki,” she said, looking at him. Then she realized she didn’t answer his question. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“Singing in church?”
“Ya. And by myself. I’ve always liked music. We couldn’t have instruments either, but I loved to sing.” She glanced at the harmonica again. “Are you going to get in trouble for playing?”
He shook his head. “The bishop doesn’t mind, as long as it’s just a harmonica. No fancy guitars or anything like that. Now that I think about it, I haven’t played for anyone else in a long time. Usually it’s just me and the horse in the barn.”
Pricilla laughed. “Why are you playing in the barn if you don’t have to hide?”
He shrugged. “Old habits are hard to break. But playing here in the buggy with you beats the barn any day.”
When she met his gaze, she couldn’t pull away. “I think so too.”
>
* * *
Micah had taken a risk when he asked Priscilla if he could take her home, and that risk was paying off more than he’d hoped. He’d been a little nervous to play his harmonica for her, mostly because he was rusty, and even though some of the rust disappeared after two songs, he knew he could play better. But all that was forgotten because of two things—her breathtaking voice and the way she was looking at him now. He’d never believed in love at first sight. But right now, alone in his buggy with Priscilla, he was starting to change his mind. Rein it in. I don’t want to scare her off.
“I should be getting home.” She turned and faced forward, her expression blank again.
He tucked the harmonica into his tool belt and tried to hide his frown. A second ago, she seemed so open and warm. Now she was back to acting like they were strangers. Which they were. He was the one that was reading more into it. “Nee problem,” he said, keeping his voice steady as he tapped the reins on the back of his horse, Billy. “We’ll be there real soon.”
She was silent on the way home, and he didn’t try to make conversation with her. But the echoes of their duet still played in his mind. If her humming was so mesmerizing, he couldn’t imagine what her singing voice sounded like. All he knew was that he wanted to find out. He just didn’t know how, other than to ask her straight out, and he wasn’t sure how receptive she would be.
A short while later he pulled into the driveway of a small, blue vinyl-sided house. He’d never met the previous owners, since the house had been for sale before he moved to Marigold three years ago. But it was obviously English, and not just because of the color of the siding. There was an attached garage door painted pale yellow, white shutters on the windows, and a cement driveway.
When Billy halted in the middle of the driveway, Priscilla turned to him. Instead of a blank expression, she looked a little sheepish. “I still have a lot of work to do on the house. I’m going to get the siding replaced, paint the garage door, and redo the landscaping.”
He frowned a little. “That’s going to be a lot of work.”
“I’m not going to do it all at once. I have to focus on teaching first, of course. But I’ll get things done a little at a time.”
Micah nodded. She was obviously independent, and he liked that about her. He wasn’t a fan of clingy women, like Suetta Keim. She’d annoyed him a little today when she kept talking to him while he tried to finish his lunch. She was a nice enough girl, but there was no attraction there on his part. Not like there was with Priscilla.
Problem was, he was liking Priscilla a little too much. What he didn’t like was the amount of work facing her to get this place in shape, especially since she would have to complete what she could in her spare time. That didn’t set right with him.
“I guess I’ll see you at church tomorrow,” she said.
Church. He’d forgotten all about it, and now he realized she’d have to walk a little over two miles to get to the Keims’ place, where the service was being held. “Can I give you a ride there tomorrow?” he blurted. “It’s a fairly far walk from here.”
“I was going to leave early so I would be there on time.”
“I can pick you up,” he said, then quickly added, “That way you won’t have to get up so early.”
“I don’t mind.”
Disappointment filled him, but he wasn’t surprised she’d turned him down. Independent, that’s for sure.
“I better get inside,” she said, moving to get out of the buggy. “Danki for the ride, Micah. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” Although he wished she would have agreed to let him take her to church, he accepted her decision. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you then.” She stepped out of the buggy and walked toward the house.
Frowning, he gripped Billy’s reins, trying to stem his disappointment. Then again, it was probably for the best. He didn’t need to get more attached to Priscilla than he already was, especially when she didn’t return his feelings. He would make sure to finish her buggy this week, though. She didn’t need to be hiking all over Marigold any more than she had to. He didn’t begrudge long walks, but having a horse and buggy saved time.
He reversed his buggy out of the driveway and turned toward home. Back to his empty, lonely house, which was the last place he wanted to go. Maybe he would stop by the bishop’s house for a little while. He and his wife, who had grown and married children and lived alone in a small house nearby, were always up for visitors. Then he nixed that idea. Bishop Miller would be preparing for tomorrow’s service and Micah didn’t want to intrude. He had no choice but to go home.
“Wait!”
Micah pulled Billy to a stop, the buggy wheels at the edge of the driveway. Priscilla was running toward him, waving her arms.
* * *
Priscilla wasn’t sure what compelled her to change her mind and flag Micah down. Common sense mostly, she assumed as she hurried toward his buggy. He was right—if he did give her a ride to the service tomorrow, she would have at least an extra hour of sleep tomorrow morning.
But that wasn’t the only reason. There had been a finality in his eyes when she refused his offer, and she realized she did want to see him again. Impulsivity had been a problem for her when she was young, but as she grew older and more jaded, she also took more time to think about her decisions. On the ride home she had talked herself out of any feelings she had for Micah. Getting involved with someone at this point in her life would be a mistake. She still believed that, but the knowledge didn’t stop her from changing her mind.
“Is everything okay?” Micah said, leaning his head out of the buggy.
She nodded. She had almost reached her front door, and although the driveway wasn’t that long, she wasn’t exactly in prime physical shape. Catching her breath, she said, “If it’s all right, I wouldn’t mind a ride to church after all.”
A grin broke out on his face. “I’d be happy to give you one.”
Priscilla couldn’t help but smile back, and the flutter returned full force. He was such a genuinely nice man. Having been around a lot of men who weren’t, she could usually peg someone who had ulterior motives. But there was no guile in Micah, she was sure of that. “Danki,” she said, glad she had made a sensible decision, despite her feelings being the exact opposite of sensible.
He told her what time he would pick her up, still smiling. “I’ll see you then,” he added, then drove away.
She turned and walked to the house, wondering what she would wear tomorrow. Then she chuckled. The question was so automatic and moot now that she was Amish again. She would wear her navy blue dress, white kapp, and black stockings. Regular church clothes. Nothing fancy or impressive. What a relief.
She opened the door and went inside, then turned on the small gas lamp in the living room. After fixing a plate of leftover meatloaf and mashed potatoes, she sat down at the kitchen table and said a silent prayer of grace. When she opened her eyes, she ate with gusto, a little surprised that she could be so hungry after eating a huge meal at lunch. Then again, she had done a lot of physical labor today.
One of her teacher manuals was lying on the table, and she read a few pages while she was eating. But she ended up closing the book, unable to concentrate on anything other than Micah, the lovely music they had made together, and the fact that she would be seeing him tomorrow.
Chapter 4
On the way to church the next morning, Priscilla enjoyed the comfortable conversation between her and Micah. He told her a little more about Marigold and about how he had moved from Lancaster to start his own buggy business. “I had to get used to making a different type of buggy,” he explained as sunshine filtered through the front opening of his buggy. “The ones back home are more square-shaped. Some are gray, some are yellow. Here in Ohio they’re all black.”
“I noticed that. They’re different in Shipshewana too.”
“It didn’t matter to me, though. I like learning new thing
s.” He glanced at her with a half smile, and she couldn’t look away. No man could compare to Micah Wagler in his Amish church clothes. “Sometimes we have to geh where we can find the work too.”
She nodded. “I couldn’t find a teaching job in mei nearby community. That’s how I ended up in Marigold.” She wasn’t ready to reveal her complete past to Micah, but she could tell him about how she ended up in Ohio. “Mamm has a friend in Birch Creek.”
“That’s about half an hour from here,” Micah said.
“Ya. Mamm mentioned to her that I was looking for a teaching position. Her friend suggested looking for a job in this area, and that’s how I found out that the Marigold teaching job was available.”
“How big of a familye do you have?” he asked.
“Not that big. I’ve got an older schwester. She’s been married a long time and has three kids. They’re all married now too.” Priscilla paused, feeling a touch of homesickness. Even when she had announced that she was leaving to go to Nashville, her parents and sister were supportive. Since she hadn’t joined the church yet, she wouldn’t be shunned, and they could maintain their relationship. But she hadn’t been back in Shipshe for a year when she took the job in Marigold, again with her parents’ blessing. As soon as she was able, she was going back for a visit. Eventually her house would be ready for guests so they could visit her too.
“I’ve got four sisters. I’m the oldest.” Micah turned into what Priscilla assumed was the Keims’ driveway.
“Was your familye okay with you moving?”
He nodded. “They understand the competition in Lancaster. Daed is an accountant, and I’ve got nee interest in numbers, other than the bookkeeping I do for mei business. I’ve always worked with mei hands, and the idea of sitting at a desk all day never appealed.” He pulled the buggy to a stop. “We’re here.”
