Steeling himself, Seth prepared for the full brunt of the blame to be put on him. He should have been here, not in the woodshop thinking about Martha and his other problems. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“I doubt that.” Daed looked at him directly. “I know about the woodshop, Seth.”
Seth’s jaw dropped for a second time. “How?”
“Yer mamm found a receipt for some carving tools in yer pants pocket, and those tools weren’t anywhere on this property. You also kept disappearing on Sunday afternoons for a while, and I was concerned. So I followed you. Not proud to admit that, I gotta say, but when I saw the shed, I put two and two together.” He took a step toward Seth. “Were you there the day of the fire?”
Seth swallowed and nodded. “Ya. I’m sorry, Daed. You don’t have to worry about me doing that anymore. I’m giving up woodcarving for gut. This farm and our familye have mei 100 percent attention. I don’t want to put our future in jeopardy again.”
Sadness passed over his father’s eyes. “I appreciate yer loyalty.”
“It’s not just loyalty. You put yer faith in me.” Seth looked at the ground, his throat thick. “I let you down.”
“Nee, sohn.” He put his hand on Seth’s shoulder. “I let you down. When I found out I had glaucoma, I didn’t want to worry everyone. I put an undue burden on you. This farm isn’t yer sole responsibility. It belongs to all of us, equally. Ira and Judah can learn everything I taught you, and they’ll have to for us to bounce back. It doesn’t matter how many setbacks we have—and we will have setbacks, Seth. That’s life. We can’t live in fear because we’re not in control. We live in peace because of who’s in control.”
Seth nodded, but didn’t look at him. “I want to believe that.”
“You will. Sometimes it takes these tough experiences to drive that point home.” He smiled. “Listen to me, Seth. If you want to have a hobby, that’s all right by me. You should have something that gives you joy.”
“But I can’t make a living with a hobby,” Seth said, lifting his head. “That was the whole reason I started woodcarving . . . because I didn’t like farming.”
Daed looked dumbfounded. “But you’ve always worked so hard.”
“And I hated every minute of it. But something changed when you and I were working together more closely. I realized that farming is in mei blood too. I want to work the farm. I want to make it a success again. I have an appreciation for it now.” He shrugged. “I think I’m pretty gut at it.”
“That you are.” Daed smiled.
“Better than woodcarving,” he muttered.
“There’s nee reason you can’t do both. If woodcarving makes you happy, there’s nix wrong with that, as long as you take care of yer responsibilities. I’m not going to sugarcoat it. We’ll have to work harder than ever before. But the work will be equal this time. I told Ira and Judah about mei eye condition, and I’ll tell yer schwesters after church. I should have been upfront with everyone.” He shook his head. “Seems like we’ve all learned some lessons lately.”
“Some hard ones,” Seth said, thinking about Martha.
“The harder they are, the better they stick. At least in mei experience.” He glanced up at the sky. The sun beat down relentlessly. “The Lord’s taking his time with the rain,” Daed said, then looked at Seth. “I’m going inside to get a drink. Want to join me?”
He looked in the direction Martha had gone. Like his father said, God was in control of the farm and the future. But in the present he needed to act. “Nee,” he said. “I’ve got something to take care of first.” He had to set things straight with Martha, once and for all.
* * *
Martha knelt at the edge of the garden, yanking the weeds out through a blur of tears. She couldn’t bring herself to go inside once she left Seth’s. Her parents were both in the house, and she didn’t want to explain what had just happened. She would jerk these dried-up weeds until she gathered her emotions, even if she had to stay out here all day. And night. At the rate she was crying, she might be here all week. She wiped her stinging eyes with the edge of her apron and grabbed another clump.
Gray clouds suddenly gathered, but they’d done that before. She felt the cool relief from the hot sun, but she didn’t look up. She wasn’t going to anticipate rain again. She’d been fooled too many times this summer.
She sat back on her heels and wiped her eyes again. She had so many regrets about what had happened the past couple of months. But giving Seth the money wasn’t one of them.
Despite how things had ended between them, she still cared about his family. She cared about him. She couldn’t make her feelings for him go away like she’d let go of Paul. She loved Seth. That wasn’t going to change, not for a long time. If ever.
A strong breeze kicked up. It was so refreshing she closed her eyes and let it fall over her, cooling her hot skin and bringing a moment of relief. When it passed, she opened her eyes, sensing someone next to her. She looked up, stunned. Seth.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then without a word he knelt next to her and started to pull weeds. She didn’t have to tell him what weeds to pull. He knew more about crops than she did.
After watching him for a moment, she finally found her voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Weeding, as you can see.” He pulled out another tough weed.
“You don’t have enough work to do?”
He didn’t respond, but instead moved a few feet away from her to a new patch of weeds.
“Seth,” she said, unable to hide her confusion. He’d been furious with her, and now he was helping her with the garden? Maybe he was dehydrated after all. She’d heard that dehydration could make people act strangely.
Seth pulled a few more weeds and tossed them to the side. He ran his hands over his pants, then said, “I’m here to apologize.”
Surprised, she glanced away. “That’s not necessary.”
“Oh, ya, it is. I said some awful things to you earlier.”
“You don’t have to apologize for telling the truth.” She started to stand up, but he clasped her hand.
“I didn’t tell the truth.” He squeezed her hand, refusing to let go. “Let me explain, Martha. Please.”
She hesitated, then sat down next to him. He released her hand, leaving it tingling. She grabbed a weed as a distraction. “I’m listening.”
“I’m sorry I said you were untrustworthy. That’s not true. I can trust you. You’ve proved that by keeping mei secret.”
She nodded and kept pulling the weeds, unable to look at him. Keeping his secret didn’t absolve her from everything else she’d done.
“I also don’t want you to stop using the shop.”
This time she looked at him, shaking her head. “I’m not going back there.” She couldn’t tell him it had nothing to do with the carving and everything to do with her need to forget her feelings for him. She couldn’t do that and still work in his shop, even if she was there alone.
“But you have to.”
Now she was getting annoyed. “Nee, I don’t.” A drop of rain landed on her cheek, but she ignored it.
“You’re talented, Martha. Very talented. I’m not going to have much time for it anyway. I’ll be busy with the farm.” He shook his head slightly. “Never thought I’d say that. But I’ve learned a lot recently. Farming is what I’m meant to do. Not woodcarving. That’s what you’re meant to do.”
She looked at him. Was he serious? A warm feeling surged through her. He said she was talented. His respect for her skill meant everything to her. Too bad it doesn’t matter in the long run. “You’ve said yer piece,” she told him as a few more drops fell.
“Nee, I haven’t.” He took her hand again. “I didn’t run away from yer parents that night because I was angry with you. I ran away because I couldn’t lie to them.”
“I don’t understand.”
He looked at their hands clasped together, making no move to separate.
“We were supposed to tell them we didn’t have feelings for each other.”
“I know,” she said, bitter.
“But I couldn’t tell them that.” His gaze met hers, deep and intense. “I couldn’t tell them mei feelings aren’t real, because they are.”
The rain came down in a steady shower, but neither of them moved. “What?”
“I do care about you, Martha.” Water streamed down his face. “I’ve been the deceitful one, not you. I was afraid of the truth. Afraid of how much I care about you.” It was raining harder now, but he squeezed her hand more tightly. “I didn’t want to hear you say you didn’t feel the same way about me.”
Her kapp was drooping and her dress was getting soaked, but Martha couldn’t move. She couldn’t take her eyes away from his. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Not again. She tried to form words, but all she could do was squeak like a tiny mouse.
“Martha?” he said, frowning a little. “Are you all right?”
Was she okay? Of course she wasn’t. Seth Yoder had just said he cared for her. He was holding her hand in the pouring rain, looking at her with such deep emotion that she couldn’t find her breath, much less her words. His frown deepened, and she knew she had to do something to reassure him she hadn’t lost all her marbles.
So she did the sensible thing. She threw her arms around him and kissed him.
Seth’s hand went to the back of her neck, and he returned the kiss as the rain everyone in Birch Creek had prayed so earnestly for continued to fall.
A sudden jerk of thunder pulled them apart. “We better get inside,” he said, grabbing her hand and gently lifting her up. They ran under the patio roof, both soaked to the skin.
“I can’t believe this,” he said, running his hand through his wet hair.
“I know.” She put her hand out and felt the rain. “It’s been so long.”
“Not that,” he said, his voice husky. He cupped her wet cheek in his palm and turned her to face him. “Who cares about a little rain?”
She laughed. “I don’t.”
He grinned and dropped his hand. “Plan B.”
“What?” she said, confused.
Seth put his arms around her waist. “Plan B actually worked.”
Her mouth formed an O shape. “You’re right. It did! But we can’t tell Cevilla.”
“She’ll never let us live it down.”
“Nee one but us will know Cevilla was right,” she said. “Mei lips are sealed.”
He kissed her again. “Just making sure,” he said when they pulled away.
She placed her hand on his shoulder, not caring that they looked like they both had taken a dunk in the pond. “You think I can’t keep a secret?” she said, teasing.
He shook his head, pulling her close. “I know you can.”
* * *
Two months later
Seth and Martha strolled to their woodshop together. It was a Saturday afternoon, and the leaves were almost all off the trees, the November weather on the chilly side. They opened the door, which they kept unlocked now that they didn’t have to keep the shop a secret. Seth still wasn’t interested in selling his pieces, and he had settled into farming as if he’d always loved it. Martha still worked for her uncle, but he didn’t ask too many questions when she wanted to leave early when business was slow. She spent more time there than Seth did.
Martha went to the scrap-wood bin and picked up a flat piece of oak. “I had mei eye on this before mei last project,” she said, turning around and showing him the wood.
“I have mei eyes on you.” He went to her and put his arms around her waist.
“We won’t get any work done like this,” she said, smiling.
“Exactly.” Then he kissed her quickly and stepped away. “We might have to start coming here separately, you know. Even on Saturdays. Too much temptation.”
“Just focus on yer own project.”
The shop had two worktables now, and they had purchased more carving tools. Saturday afternoons were designated for them to work in the shop, since both their families knew about their hobbies. Mamm had been thrilled with her plaque for her birthday, and she also hadn’t been surprised when Martha and Seth told her and her father the truth—they loved each other.
“I knew it,” Mamm said, after Seth had gone home a few hours later. “I knew it the day of the fire.”
“How?”
“I thought I’d have to pin you down to keep you from going to him. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”
It was love, and they had admitted it to each other many times since that day in the garden.
Martha went to work planing the wood, expecting to hear Seth moving behind her while he started on his own new project. When she realized it was too quiet, she turned around. He was looking at her, but instead of the normal mischievous look in his eye, his look was serious. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
“When was the last time you heard from Selah?”
“A couple of weeks ago.” Martha frowned. Seth knew she and Selah had written letters to each other ever since her friend had returned to New York. “Why?”
“Tell her something for me in yer next letter,” he said, moving closer to her.
She set down the plane and leaned against the worktable. “What’s that?”
“Ask her to be yer bridesmaid, or maid of honor, or whatever you women call it.”
Her heart skipped three beats. No, make that four. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
“Are you really that surprised?” He leaned down and kissed her. “Martha Detweiler, would you be this farmer’s bride?”
She threw her arms around him with such force he lost his footing. He steadied them both, holding her tightly in his arms. “I would love to be yer bride,” she said, then kissed him. Once. Twice. Three times . . .
No, they wouldn’t get any work done today.
Epilogue
Selah Ropp folded Martha’s letter and put it back in the envelope. She smiled, happy for her friend. Maid of honor. She’d never been anyone’s maid of honor, and to her it really was an honor. Martha’s wedding to Seth would take place at the end of November, a little over two weeks away.
Selah put the letter in her side table drawer and looked out the window. Snow had been falling since early this morning, but it was light and airy and wasn’t accumulating much. In a few weeks it would cover the ground, and she’d assumed she’d be getting ready for Christmas with her mother and other relatives in her community. But then she’d had a feeling she wouldn’t be here for Christmas, and Martha’s letter just confirmed that she wouldn’t. She’d felt drawn to Birch Creek for a few months now, and she’d brought it up with her counselor last week.
“I don’t see why you can’t go back for a visit.” Her counselor, a kind English woman named Sally, had been meeting with Selah for over a year. Selah had learned that clinical depression didn’t disappear with a pill and a few talks. It took work and therapy to keep it at bay, which was what Selah had been concerned about.
But Sally thought she’d made enough progress to reduce their visits to an as-needed basis. “You can always call me,” she said as Selah left her last session. “Anytime, day or night.”
Glad for the reassurance, Selah started making plans to visit her brother, Christian, and his wife, Ruby. She missed them, even Ruby, despite their rocky start when they first met. Selah had been at one of the lowest, most confusing points of her life then, but Ruby had forgiven her for being difficult. Of course, she also missed Martha, who had become her best friend despite the distance between them.
She was excited to go back to Birch Creek. She wasn’t sure how long she’d stay, but she would make it a long visit, at least through Christmas. This time would be different from when she’d moved there with Christian, trying to escape her depression by running away from her home. No, when she boarded the bus to Ohio next week, she would do it with anticipation and a sense of adventure. She
couldn’t shake the feeling that God was leading her back to Birch Creek, and she was ready to find out why.
Discussion Questions
Martha caused a lot of problems for herself and others by not being straightforward. What advice would you give her to help her tell her suitors the truth?
Seth’s passion is woodworking. What job or hobby do you love to do, and why?
How are Cevilla and Delilah similar? In what ways are they different?
Nina mentions that comparing others was a problem in her prior community. Why is that kind of comparison a problem?
Richard struggles making a decision to join the Amish. What factors would you consider if you had to make the same choice?
What lessons did Martha learn from lying? What are some other reasons God wants us to be honest?
Freemont was sure that God would turn their tragedy into something good. When has God done something similar for you?
Cevilla and Delilah have a tentative friendship by the end of the book. Do you think they’ll ever become closer? Or will they always be “frenemies”?
Acknowledgments
A big thanks to my amazing editors, Becky Monds and Jean Bloom. They know almost as much about Birch Creek as I do. My gratitude to you, dear reader. I hope you enjoyed another adventure in Birch Creek.
Glossary
ab im kopp: crazy, crazy in the head
aenti: aunt
appeditlich: delicious
boppli/bopplin: baby/babies
bruder: brother
bu/buwe: boy/boys
daed: father
danki: thank you
dawdi haus: a small house built onto or near the main house for grandparents to live in
Dietsch: Amish language
dochder: daughter
familye: family
frau: woman, Mrs.
geh: go
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