The Farmer's Bride

by Kathleen Fuller

  He cooled off his face and neck, then stood and turned to see Martha looking up at the sky. He gulped. That didn’t help matters much. The moon cast her profile in a silvery glow, and his mouth went dry again. Oh, this wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. He knelt and dunked his entire head into the pond, then jumped to his feet and swiped his hand over his face before shaking the water out of his hair.

  “Seth,” Martha said, giggling. “You’re getting me all wet.”

  “We need to get back,” he said, rushing past her toward the opening in the woods. He didn’t slow his steps, not even when they had reached Jalon’s backyard. The house was dark except for one light in a window on the top floor. When it went out, he realized it was probably later than he’d thought. “I’ll walk you home,” he said, turning to her.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I’m walking you home, Martha.”

  “All right,” she replied quietly, holding the plaque to her chest and looking a bit wounded.

  Great, now he was snapping at her. He was starting to rue the day Ruby had planned that hunt. That was the start of all his troubles where Martha Detweiler was concerned, and he had more troubles to deal with other than her. He didn’t have time for . . . for whatever this was he was feeling.

  “Seth, can you slow down? Yer legs are longer than mine.”

  He slowed his steps and turned to look at her, walking backward. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just don’t want yer parents to worry.”

  “You weren’t concerned with that a little while ago.”

  Because I’m not thinking clearly. If he had been, he wouldn’t be here, walking in the moonlight with Martha and fighting his feelings. He glanced at her. She was still holding the plaque against her chest, and he remembered her intense focus as she worked with the chisel. He wondered if she realized she’d stuck out her tongue a little bit when she concentrated. He thought about how she hadn’t seemed to notice the sandpaper dust all over her clothes, and about the sweet sparkle in her eyes when she talked about her idea.

  It was all so . . . attractive. And he didn’t need to be attracted to anything right now.

  They reached Martha’s house, and just like Jalon’s house, the lights were out. He stopped at the end of the driveway. “You’re home,” he said, not taking a step farther.

  She glowered at him. “Don’t sound so disappointed.” Then she lifted her chin. “Danki, Seth. I know I’ve already said this, but I really enjoyed tonight.”

  He had, too, unfortunately. All he did was nod.

  Martha’s shoulders drooped slightly, and she started to head for the house. “Oh,” she said, turning around. “Don’t forget about Thursday. Do you want to meet me at the Stolls’? Or pick me up here?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. He had forgotten about the Stolls. That was the whole reason he was pretending to like Martha tonight. But somewhere the line between reality and fiction had blurred. “Right. The Stolls. I’ll meet you there.” He didn’t think it was a good idea to be alone with her in the buggy. At least not when they were pretending to be a couple. Or until I can get mei scrambled egg of a brain figured out.

  She nodded, turning around too fast for him to see her reaction. When she was inside, he spun on his heel and headed home. Tomorrow he would have to tell his parents he had another supper invitation for Thursday. He was rarely invited anywhere lately, and now he had two social events in one week. Nee, that doesn’t look suspicious at all.

  When he arrived home, a small lamp was glowing in front of the living room window. He appreciated his parents keeping it on for him. He turned it off, about to head upstairs, but then decided to go into the kitchen. Maybe a snack and some water would still his thoughts enough that he could get some sleep tonight.

  He turned on the lantern on the kitchen table, and when he saw a note lying next to it, he picked it up.

  Nina and Delilah Stoll stopped by. Said you were invited to supper on Thursday. I’ll make a dessert for you to take over there.

  He set his mamm’s note back on the table. As long as she didn’t make donuts. Normally the thought of his mother’s hockey puck–like donuts brought a smile to his face. She could make anything else, but decent donuts eluded her. Right now, though, he couldn’t even smile. He sat down and ran his hands through his hair, still damp from the pond. How was he going to get through another night of pretending with Martha? Especially when he wasn’t sure if he was pretending?

  Then there was Delilah. She was a woman on a mission, one he didn’t want to deal with. He thought Cevilla was forthright, but she had nothing on Delilah Stoll.

  He pushed up from the table and got a drink of water. His dad came to mind, and he immediately felt ashamed. His father was facing blindness, and Seth was worried about a stupid supper. He needed to get his priorities straight. His father and the farm were the most important things right now. And after he finished his obligation to the Stolls, he would focus his attention on him.

  Yet despite his vow, he thought about Martha.

  * * *

  Nina settled on the bank of the pond and set her creel beside her. She opened it and pulled out a fat, slimy worm. Perfect. She baited her hook and cast it into the middle of the pond. Then she waited, digging her toes into the warm grass, peace settling over her.

  It was midday, another hot one, and she had snuck away from her grandmother, this time with Levi’s help. He knew how important it was that she get in some fishing time, and he said he would give Grossmammi some excuse for Nina’s absence this afternoon. Nina had hurried and fetched her fishing pole from the barn, then walked over to the Chupps’ house. She would have arrived sooner in the buggy, but she’d made good time on foot.

  After seeing Ira with his fishing pole, she couldn’t get fishing off her mind. She also needed to fortify herself for tomorrow night, and nothing was more fortifying for her than fishing. She had stopped to ask Jalon permission to fish, mentioning Ira’s name. Hopefully Ira wouldn’t mind. Jalon had happily given it to her. He seemed nice. So had Ira and his parents. And of course, Martha. Everyone she’d met in Birch Creek had been. That, coupled with some quality fishing time, eased her homesickness a tiny bit.

  She closed her eyes, holding the pole with a loose grip, but not too loose, in case she got a bite. Then she heard something moving in the trees. She looked over her shoulder and saw Ira approaching. She was so surprised that the pole slipped out of her grip and fell onto the ground. It suddenly zipped off into the pond. A fish was taking off with her pole.

  “Oh nee,” she said, bounding to her feet. “That’s mei favorite rod.”

  “I’ll get it.” Ira shoved off his boots and socks and waded into the water without hesitation. He ducked under for a moment, then came back up with her pole.

  She clasped her hands together. “Oh, danki!”

  He sloshed to the bank and handed her the pole. “I’m afraid you lost yer fish,” he said.

  “I’m not worried about that.” She took her rod and ran her palm over it. “I was afraid of losing this. Danki for getting it for me.”

  “The fish in here aren’t big enough or strong enough to drag that very far.” He moved to the side of her and shook the water out of his hair, then looked at her. “Did I get you wet?”

  She couldn’t help but giggle. “A bit. Were you trying to?”

  He shook his head. “Nee. Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be. The water feels gut.” She grew serious as she took in his wet clothes. “You’re soaked. I’m sorry about that.”

  “Trust me, I’m glad for the chance to cool off.” He wrung out the hem of his shirt, which now clung to him like a second skin.

  That didn’t escape Nina’s notice. He was a very, very well-built man. She turned, her face heating for some weird reason. “I-I’m g-glad.” She was stuttering? She never stuttered.

  “I realized I forgot mei tackle box,” he said. “I came by to get it. I didn’t know you were back here.”

&
nbsp; “I thought you used live bait.” She turned slightly, now more curious about the tackle than his wet shirt.

  “I do. But I keep a few lures around.” He scanned the bank of the pond. “There it is.” He went to a small, neatly trimmed bush a few feet away. “I set it down last night, and then Zeb distracted me.” He turned to her. “Are you enjoying yerself?”

  “Ya,” she said, her self-consciousness leaving her. “This is the most well-kept pond I’ve ever seen.”

  His damp bangs hung above his eyes. “It used to be wilder than this. But Jalon decided to clean it up since so many of us use it.” He glanced around. “It’s a bit fancy for me, though.”

  “I agree.” She faced him fully now, sitting with her legs crossed. “I always loved the wildness of ponds and lakes. Some things should be kept pristine.”

  “Does that mean you don’t want to fish here again?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “Not when the fish are biting this gut.”

  “Speaking of, I’ll let you get back to it. I’ve got a ton of work to do this afternoon.”

  She watched as he took his tackle box and walked away. “Bye,” she called after him. She’d sat back down on the bank when she heard his voice.

  “Nina.”

  He stood at the edge of the copse of trees surrounding the pond. “Ya?” she said.

  “Maybe you’d like to geh fishing sometime.” He glanced down at the ground before looking back at her. “We could, uh, meet here.”

  Usually she liked to fish by herself, but she was pleased by his invitation. “I’d like that, Ira.”

  He gave her a small smile. “I’ll let you know when.” Then he disappeared.

  Nina cast her line back into the pond. Fishing with Ira sounded nice, and hopefully they would catch a lot of fish. She liked to cook and eat them almost as much as she liked catching them. She pulled her legs up to her chest and smiled, holding on to her pole more tightly this time. She was happier than she’d been in a long time. Thanks to fishing.

  But a little voice in the back of her mind spoke to her. Thanks to Ira.

  Chapter 10

  “Your turn, Cevilla.”

  Cevilla looked at Richard, her friend’s face coming into focus. Today he was dressed nearly Amish, with the exception of his short haircut and the fact that his shirt was tailor-made instead of Amish-sewn. He insisted on visiting the barber every two weeks. Cevilla couldn’t imagine him with an Amish haircut. She wasn’t sure she could imagine him Amish, despite seeing him in a plain shirt, black suspenders, and blue jeans. This was the most casual she’d seen him dress since they’d reunited.

  However, she wasn’t thinking about Richard’s clothes, or the chance he might never join the Amish, which would put their relationship on even more uncertain ground. She was still distracted by her meeting with Delilah last Sunday. They had parted on the wrong note, and that hadn’t set well with her. She needed to make some kind of friendly overture to the woman. At the time she’d decided to invite the family to supper, but now she wasn’t so sure that was the best thing to do.

  “Cevilla?” Richard waved his hand of cards in front of her face. “Are you in there?”

  She set down her cards, even though she was one card away from gin, and pushed away from the table. “I need to bake something,” she mused out loud as she stood and then walked to her pantry. She opened the door. “Now, what would Delilah and her family like?”

  “Um, Cevilla. The card game?”

  “We’re finished, and you won,” she said with a wave of her hand. She looked over her supplies. “I don’t have much time to make anything complicated.”

  Richard’s chair scraped on the hardwood floor as he stood. “Mind cluing me in on what’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?”

  She smiled and peeked around the door. Leave it to Richard to give her an excellent compliment. “I’m going to pay the Stolls a visit tonight. Are you free to drive me over?”

  “Usually I’d have my stamp club meeting in Barton, since it’s Thursday, but it was canceled this month. So yes, I’m free to take you. Do you want me to drop you off?”

  She shook her head and pulled out a bag of flour. Peanut butter cookies sounded good. Besides, those were Richard’s favorite, and she would make some extra for him to snack on this week. He was good about not eating too much sugar because of his diabetes, but he couldn’t resist peanut butter cookies. She’d make sure his cookies were on the small side.

  “Do you want me to stay with you at the Stolls’?” he said. “I need a little clarification here.”

  “Yes.” She shut the pantry and carried the flour and jar of peanut butter to the counter, balancing it in her arm while she leaned against the cane as she walked to the counter. “Please stay with me at the Stolls’.”

  Richard rose and took the small bag from her. “Mind telling me what tonight’s visit is about?”

  She set down the peanut butter. “I want a fresh start with Delilah Stoll. We didn’t part on friendly terms last Sunday. I want to make that right ASAP, and I’ve decided this makes the most sense.”

  “I see.” He went to a cabinet and pulled down a bowl. He owned his own house next door, but he’d been here so many times that he felt comfortable in her small home—as though it were his home. She pressed her lips together. It could be. But they weren’t ready for that. She sighed. They were acting as though they had all the time in the world, which wasn’t true for either of them. Yet she wasn’t going to marry a man who wasn’t Amish. No matter how much she loved him. And she did indeed love Richard.

  Cevilla looked up at him, a lump forming in her throat. “Thank you.”

  He glanced at her. “For what?”

  She swallowed. She wasn’t used to being this open with her emotions with a man. She’d never had the experience. “For being you.”

  Richard smiled, the creases around his mouth deepening, making him even more handsome. “You’re most welcome. You know I’d do anything for you, Cevilla.”

  Except join the church. But she didn’t want him to do that for her. She wanted him to do it for the Lord—as long as it was God’s will.

  After she made the cookies with a little bit of Richard’s help—mostly taste testing the batter—and had a quick bite to eat, they made their way over to the Stolls’. Again, she thought how nice it was to have another woman in their district closer to her age. She could imagine them spending time together drinking peppermint tea, talking about issues only women of their age would fully understand. She hadn’t realized how much she missed peer camaraderie until it was possible to experience it again. She had always been the wise old woman of their community, even when she first moved here. It would be a relief to be plain ole Cevilla to someone other than Richard.

  Richard pulled into the driveway and turned off his car’s engine. “Is it all right to stop by unannounced? I’m still unsure about the rules of etiquette here.”

  “I can’t exactly call her up, so yes, it is acceptable.” She opened the door, but he didn’t get out of the car. “Are you coming?” she said, frowning. Had he changed his mind?

  He hesitated, then nodded. “Guess I’m still not used to the Amish way. It seems a little presumptuous to be here without an invitation.”

  She chuckled as she got out of the car. “This isn’t California, Richard. We don’t stand on ceremony.”

  She took in the Stoll residence. They had done a lot to this old house in only a short time, and even from the driveway she could see a framed-in addition on the back. She could also see that they’d kept the thin, light-green boards that ran vertically across the front of the house, giving it a nice, if a bit fancy, look. That surprised her. Part of the grass in the yard had been dug up, and she assumed they were expanding the driveway and parking for future guests. The house itself needed fresh paint on the outside. Maybe they were waiting to paint everything one color at the same time. However, the front porch had been cleaned and freshly stained.

&nb
sp; Since meeting Delilah and Nina, she’d learned why the Stolls had come to Birch Creek. Cevilla had decided this bed-and-breakfast or inn or whatever they were calling it would be a good addition to the community. A place for visitors to stay was long overdue.

  Richard put his hand on her elbow, and they both slowly walked up the porch steps, taking their time and making good use of their canes. When they reached the front door, she knocked on it, then a moment later gave it another knock, harder this time.

  “Give them time to open the door, Cevilla,” Richard said, although his tone was gentle.

  He was teaching her patience, which had always been in short supply for her. She did as he said and waited a few moments, but there was still no answer. She was about to knock again when it opened. Delilah stood there, her eyes widened with surprise. Then her expression became impassive. “Hello, Cevilla.”

  “Hello, Delilah.”

  Delilah looked at the plastic-covered plate of cookies, then at Richard, then back at Cevilla. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “I’ve been a bit remiss about my hospitality.” Cevilla held up the plate and smiled. “These are for you. I thought we could visit for a while. Get to know each other better.”

  Delilah peered down at the cookies. “I’m allergic to peanut butter.”

  Cevilla’s jaw tightened. “Oh. I’m sorry about that. Perhaps your family members could enjoy them.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Cevilla glanced at Richard, who gave her a confused look. Normally it wasn’t a problem to drop in uninvited, but Delilah seemed on the verge of proving her wrong.

  “Who is it, Mudder?” Loren Stoll came up behind Delilah.

  “Cevilla Schlabach.” Cevilla held out her hand to him and he shook it. “This is my friend, Richard Johnson.”

  “Loren Stoll.” Loren shook Richard’s hand, then opened the door a bit wider. “Come on in. We were just about to start supper. Would you like to join us? Nina and Mamm made plenty. We always have room for more.”