The Farmer's Bride

by Kathleen Fuller

  Dedication

  To James. I love you.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Discussion Questions

  Acknowledgments

  Glossary

  About the Author

  Acclaim for Kathleen Fuller

  Other Books by Kathleen Fuller

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Martha Detweiler dashed into her house, slammed the front door behind her, and leaned against it. She closed her eyes. Not again.

  Her mother came into the living room, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. “Goodness, Martha. What’s all this racket?”

  “Ruby’s having a scavenger hunt this Saturday.”

  “Oh?” Mamm tucked the towel into the band of her apron, which was dotted with a few globs of the strawberry jam she was making. “That’s nice.”

  “Nice?” Martha slumped against the door. “How can you say that when she invited other people!”

  “You can’t have a scavenger hunt with just two people,” her mother said, referring to Ruby and her husband, Chris.

  Martha snuck a peek through the curtains covering the front window. “Oh nee,” she whispered.

  “What in the world has gotten into you?” Mamm looked over Martha’s shoulder. “Where are all those yung men going?”

  “Here.” She turned to Mamm, her eyes widening. “They’re coming here. I think they all want to ask me to the scavenger hunt.”

  Mamm turned pale. “All of them? At the same time?”

  Martha nodded. “Yes. I think so.” Then she shook her head. “I-I don’t know.”

  Mamm looked out the window again, and then she grabbed Martha by the hand and practically dragged her into the kitchen.

  “Geh,” she said, shooing her out the back door. “I’ll make sure the buwe don’t follow you.”

  Martha nodded her thanks before taking off, running through the neighbors’ backyard. Fortunately, they weren’t home, or for sure they would wonder why she was flying by. Making a quick decision to flee to Cevilla’s house—the boys weren’t likely to look for her there—she snuck across another backyard, this one behind a large house that had been empty since her family moved here nearly two years ago. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure walking out the back door. Was someone living there now? She hadn’t known the house was for sale.

  She shook off the thought as she zipped through a small field. She glanced at the road behind her. Seeing the five young men turning into her driveway, she picked up her speed.

  When she turned the corner at the end of the road, she slowed down, then stopped, her chest heaving. She gasped for air. There had to be a better way to avoid the single men of Birch Creek.

  When she finally caught her breath, she walked to the end of the street where Cevilla lived and imagined her mother giving Ira, Zeke, Zeb, Owen, and Samuel an explanation for her absence—or at least for her unavailability. Her body perspired from a mix of the heavy summer humidity, running faster than she had in years, and a good dose of guilt. She shouldn’t have let her mother deal with the boys. It wasn’t her responsibility to fudge the truth on her daughter’s behalf.

  But what else could she do? Since Ruby had married Christian last year, and Christian’s sister, Selah, had moved back to New York, Martha was the only single young woman in a district full of young single men. And for some reason, lately they all had courting fever. She wasn’t even sure that was a thing, but it didn’t matter. She couldn’t go anywhere, except maybe to her job, without having one of them approach her for a date. Their overzealous attention even squashed her interest in Zeb, whom she had kind of liked up until a few months ago and might have gone out with if he’d asked. Now she just wanted them all to leave her alone, not compete for her attention.

  I just want a simple life, Lord. Is that too much to ask?

  She knocked on Cevilla’s front door. Cevilla’s English friend, Richard, answered. “Hi, Martha,” he said, looking a little surprised.

  Martha looked over her shoulder. So far no one was following her, which meant her mother had been successful in keeping them from sniffing out her trail. When she looked back at Richard, Cevilla stood next to him.

  “What brings you by?” Richard asked.

  “Bu trouble,” Cevilla said, then motioned for her to come in.

  Martha quickly stepped inside, wondering how Cevilla knew. Then again, the octogenarian seemed to have a sixth sense about everything.

  “Get the dominoes,” Cevilla said to Richard, pointing at a cabinet on the other side of the room. “I’ll make the tea.”

  Looking confused, Richard gave Martha a small smile before heading to the cabinet. Martha followed Cevilla to the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry I’m imposing,” Martha said, standing in the doorway.

  “Nonsense.” Cevilla began filling her teakettle with water. “Just sit down and tell me what happened.”

  Martha dropped into a chair at the table and explained how Ruby had invited every single, unattached young person in the district to her house for a scavenger hunt, with Martha the only single woman. “I had just gone out for a walk when I saw Ira, Zeb, Zeke, Owen, Samuel—”

  “Oh dear,” Cevilla said, now sitting across from her.

  “—all heading toward mei haus. I ran back inside.” She looked down at her lap. “That sounds cowardly, doesn’t it?”

  “It sounds like they took you off guard—in a group.”

  She lifted her eyes and looked at Cevilla again. “They did. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. This isn’t the first time several of them have asked me for a date, or to take me home from a singing, or even just tried to talk to me. When I saw them all coming at once, I panicked.”

  Cevilla nodded as Richard walked in. The teakettle started to whistle, and Cevilla moved to get up. “Stay put,” he said, and then set the dominoes on the table. “I’ll get the tea too.”

  Martha didn’t miss the softness in Cevilla’s eyes as she looked at her friend, giving him a small nod. It tugged at Martha’s heart. They had an unusual relationship for many reasons—their advanced age, the fact he was English, and the fact that after six decades apart they’d reunited. He’d even moved from California and now lived in a small house next to hers. Everyone could see they were in love.

  Love. Martha let out a small sigh.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate romance or didn’t want to fall in love. She wanted to date and someday to be in a relationship. She just didn’t want to be coerced into going out with someone. She didn’t want to be chased just because she was the only woman available.

  Cevilla opened the tin box of dominoes and started placing the pieces on the table. “Many a young woman would love to be in yer shoes, Martha.”

  “They can have my shoes,” Martha muttered.

  Richard poured the hot water into a plastic pitcher, where Cevilla had placed several teabags. As he went to the gas-powered fridge freezer to get ice, Martha helped Cevilla turn over the dominoes. “I’m sorry about this,” Martha said.

  “No need to be sorry.” Richard pulled out an ice cube tray. “We love a rousing game of dominoes, don’t we, Cevilla?”

  “That we do.”

  Martha’s emotions started to settle a bit.
She loved playing dominoes too. She loved any type of game, indoors or outdoors, and playing dominoes with Cevilla and Richard would help keep her mind off her problems, at least for the short-term.

  “Care to shuffle?” Cevilla said to Martha.

  Martha nodded, and after Richard put glasses of iced tea in front of the women, they started a game of chicken foot. Richard immediately shot ahead.

  “I don’t know why we let him play,” Cevilla grumped as she wrote down his most recent score, a whopping three points.

  “Because I’m charming.” Richard took a sip of his tea.

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” But she smiled. “It’s because we need three players to make this game worth playing.” Cevilla put down her pencil and looked at Martha. “Feeling better, sweetie?”

  “Ya.” She leaned back in her chair and watched Richard shuffle the dominoes. “I can’t keep doing this, though.”

  “You’re not that far behind Richard,” Cevilla said.

  “Not the dominoes.”

  Cevilla nodded, her gaze growing soft. “I know. And it’s all right. We’ll just have to figure out a plan B, that’s all.”

  “When was there a plan A?” Richard asked.

  “There wasn’t.” Cevilla raised an indignant gray eyebrow. “I just think plan B sounds better.”

  Martha didn’t care what they called it, as long as it worked. She couldn’t continue to literally run away from her problems.

  Richard sniffed. “I don’t know why you don’t tell those fellas you’re not interested.”

  Both Cevilla and Martha gaped at Richard. “It’s not that easy,” Cevilla said.

  “Sure it is. Men like it when women are straightforward.” He started choosing his dominoes. “To the point is best.”

  “I can’t tell them I’m not interested in marriage,” Martha said. “That would be a lie.”

  “And we don’t lie, do we, Martha?” Cevilla lifted her chin.

  Richard frowned. “Isn’t your mother lying to those young men right now?”

  “Fudging,” Cevilla corrected. “And it’s only temporary.”

  “Until you come up with plan B.” Richard shook his head. “I never will understand women.”

  Martha didn’t say anything as she grabbed nine dominoes. Richard wouldn’t understand, of course. He was English. He was also a man, and while they might claim to like women to be straightforward, that wasn’t always the case. She’d told Ira and Owen she wasn’t interested in dating anyone, but they seemed to take that as a challenge, and she couldn’t shake off the feeling that they considered her a prize to be won. She’d never be that.

  “Tell me more about the scavenger hunt,” Cevilla said, standing her dominoes on their sides. “Is this another of Ruby Ropp’s harebrained ideas?”

  “It’s not harebrained.” Martha checked her dominoes and saw that she had a double three. She put it in the middle of the table. “I think it sounds like fun. She said she wanted to do something different from supper and volleyball.” Martha would have been happy to play volleyball, but the scavenger hunt intrigued her.

  “What is Ruby planning to do?” Richard asked.

  “I have no idea.” She’d been speaking English since she arrived, since she knew Richard knew only a few words of Dietsch. Cevilla always spoke English when she was with him.

  “Chris will keep her in line.” Cevilla placed a four/three domino next to the double three. “He seems to have a grounding effect on her. They make a lovely couple.”

  Martha thought so, too, even though she had at one time thought Chris Ropp was interested in her. But now she could see that had been her imagination. His heart had always belonged to Ruby, even when he didn’t know it. “I’m sure whatever she decides to do, everyone will have a good time,” Martha said.

  “Will you?”

  She glanced up at Richard’s question. He was looking at her with his kind eyes, the wrinkles around his cheeks more pronounced as he smiled gently. She liked him, and it was obvious he and Cevilla adored each other. They had fallen in love later in life, but Martha enjoyed the youthfulness of their interaction. She had lived in lots of communities, but she had never encountered a couple like them. Perhaps they were unique, which was why no one raised an eyebrow about their relationship. That, and Cevilla would never stand for it.

  “I’ll try to have a good time,” Martha said. Somehow she would dodge the men’s advances. Or maybe by Saturday they would have given up on her. Hopefully.

  “You’ve been approached by every single young man in Birch Creek?” Richard asked.

  Martha nodded. “Except for one.”

  “Who?” Cevilla said, her brow lifting behind her silver-rimmed glasses.

  “Seth Yoder.”

  “Who does that yung mann think he is?” Cevilla slipped into Dietsch. “Does he believe he’s better than you?”

  “Cevilla.” Richard put his hand on hers. “I don’t know exactly what you said, but I can see that flash in your eyes.”

  “What flash?”

  “The one that tells me your blood pressure is on the rise.”

  “My blood pressure is perfectly fine. I’m just confused as to why Seth hasn’t asked Martha out on a date yet.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to.” Martha added another domino to the game. She frowned. She hadn’t thought about Seth not paying attention to her until Richard asked that question. And while she didn’t want to be vain, why hadn’t he’d shown any interest?

  “Or he already has a girl,” Richard said. “Pass.” He picked up another domino, scowled, and added it to the group in front of him.

  “I’m sure he doesn’t,” Cevilla said.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I know Mary Yoder, and she can’t keep a secret. She would have told her sister-in-law Carolyn, or Naomi, or Rhoda. Probably all three. Eventually that tidbit of information would get back to me.” She lifted her chin again. “Nothing goes on in this community that I don’t know about.”

  Martha didn’t doubt that. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” she said. “I’m grateful he isn’t interested in me. That’s one less man I have to say no to.”

  Cevilla snapped her fingers. “That’s it.”

  “What?” Martha and Richard said at the same time.

  “You need to say yes to Seth.”

  Martha stilled. “He hasn’t asked me anything yet.”

  “No, he hasn’t.” Cevilla leaned forward, the indignant flash in her eyes replaced with a crafty one. “But he will.”

  “Is this plan B?” Richard said, his expression wary.

  “It’s the best plan B there is.” Cevilla laughed. “I’m surprised I didn’t think of this before.”

  “I don’t understand,” Martha said.

  Cevilla sat back in her chair and smiled. “You won’t have to worry about those boys soon enough. By this time next week, everyone will know you’re dating Seth Yoder.”

  * * *

  Seth tossed a bale of hay down from the loft in the barn and then wiped the sweat from his brow before grabbing another one. This summer had been hot, humid, and long. He turned and looked at the full hayloft, and gratitude filled him. Not long ago the loft had been empty, the family had been down to one cow, and the crops had failed for the third year in a row. He’d been twelve at the time, still a kid, but old enough to notice his father’s stressed, worried face and his mother’s constant hand-wringing.

  He grabbed another bale. How things had changed. His father was now the bishop of Birch Creek and had been for several years. Any strain he saw on Daed’s face came from his bishop duties, not worrying about how he would feed his family over the winter. His mother was her bright, joking self, and his older sisters, Ivy and Karen, were happily married with families and businesses of their own. Seth and his younger brothers, Ira and Judah, worked hard on the farm, and not only was the hayloft filled to bursting but they had sizable herds of Angus cows, goats, and pigs, as well as chickens.
Judah wanted a dog, but their father had put his foot down, a decision Seth agreed with. “We have enough animals to take care of,” Seth pointed out. Their father nodded in agreement.

  Yes, life was good. Great, even. Except for one thing.

  Seth hated farming.

  He tossed the bale to the barn floor. Hate was too strong a word, and a term the Amish frowned on using anyway. Hate in the heart only led to bitterness, bad choices, and separation from God. But he’d be hard-pressed to find an equivalent for how he felt about farming. Unlike his father and Ira, Seth didn’t feel connected to the land, and he didn’t find peace raising animals. He hated—no, intensely disliked—working outside from dawn to dusk. He’d rather be pursuing a passion for woodworking he’d secretly harbored but had found less and less time for as the farm became more successful. But he couldn’t make money woodworking—at least not yet—and he would never again live in poverty the way he had as a child.

  Seth slid down the ladder, landing softly on the ground. His attitude toward farming had nothing to do with his physical fitness. Out of all his brothers, he was the most athletic, and he and Ira were about equal in strength. He picked up two of the bales, one in each hand, and carried them to the cart outside the barn. His horse, Pinto, was already harnessed and ready to go, dragging one front hoof against the gravel driveway. “Easy, bu,” Seth said as he tossed the hay into the cart. “Just two more and we’ll be ready to geh.”

  He was carrying out the last two bales when he saw Ira trudging up the driveway. Over the past year his brother had shot up at least four inches and was now taller than Seth. He’d kept his stocky build, though. He ate like a horse, but all that food had transformed to muscle. “What’s got you so down?” Seth said, dropping the bales into the cart.

  “Nix.” Ira put his hands in his pockets, but he didn’t look at Seth.

  “That’s not true.” Seth brushed off his hands and went to Ira. “You look like you lost yer best friend.”

  Ira shook his head. “Not exactly.” He blew out a breath and looked at the cart. “Where are you headed?”

  “Cevilla’s. I told her I’d bring her some of Mamm’s gooseberry jam. I also want to check on her and her friend Richard, to see if they need anything.”