The Englisher

by Beverly Lewis

  But fleeting images of such a gathering came almost too easily, as if he could taste the eggs, like the ones on his plate, only with diced green peppers, onions, and bits of ham. He shook it off as he had other mental images since arriving here. He wasn’t the only outsider who’d experienced an obsession with these people, strangely set apart, and their staid, family-oriented culture.

  He glanced at the digital stove clock. I’m working too many hours, he concluded, forcing himself to switch gears, pondering how to win a yes from Annie on coffee or dinner.

  Inhaling deeply, he recalled how silent, even obstinate, she had been at the outset of their first meeting. The second time they’d met, too. Or had she been merely cautious? She must have had a safety antenna up her whole life, around strangers at least. Englishers, Irvin said was the name the Amish assigned to the likes of him.

  How many Englishers does Annie know? He thought of Louisa, who was the most mysterious case of all. What sort of person dresses Plain when she isn’t?

  He used his fork to get every morsel and had the last bite of jellied toast. When he was finished, he carried the plate and coffee mug to the sink.

  In no way was he interested in attending church today. But he was eager for a drive deep into Amish country. . . .

  Chapter 3

  Louisa had gotten up extra early to help Annie hitch up the team, and before leaving to pick up Courtney and bring her back for breakfast at the Zooks’, she turned on her smart phone—her Palm—to see if she had any messages from London . . . namely, from Trey Douglas.

  Sure enough there was one, but as she listened she detected a new urgency in his tone. He said he had ‘‘the perfect idea’’ and wanted to discuss it with her.

  After speed-dialing his number, she hurried back to the house to warm up. She stood in the enclosed porch, out of earshot.

  ‘‘What’s up, Trey?’’ she asked when he answered.

  ‘‘Hey, Louisa! Great to hear your voice.’’

  He sounded eager, almost too confident, and the more he talked, the more she sensed something big was up his sleeve.

  ‘‘You said you had an idea?’’ she prompted. ‘‘What is it?’’

  ‘‘Well, for starters, I thought maybe you’d consider flying over to see me. Spend a long weekend here soon . . . I could show you around. It’d be terrific, Louisa.’’ He paused. ‘‘You might even think about staying. . . .’’

  ‘‘Well, that sounds like fun.’’

  Then she swallowed, hard. Staying?

  ‘‘So, you ready to pack your bags? Abandon your Amish lifestyle for the glamour of London?’’

  I hope he’s kidding, she thought, feeling oddly resistant. She wasn’t sure why she wasn’t ready to jump at the chance to travel . . . to see Trey again, face-to-face. Have I changed so much?

  ‘‘Louisa?’’

  ‘‘Yep?’’

  ‘‘I really hope you’ll think about it.’’

  She sighed. Until just this moment, she hadn’t fully come to grips with her feelings. There was no way she could return to their former relationship. Sure, he was nice. Charming . . . and really wonderful, too. He treated her like a lady in public and loved to pick up the tab . . . show her off. But he had no clue about the happiness in something as simple as feeding peacocks or walking beneath a noonday sun, soaking in its warmth on an otherwise brisk day. No, he couldn’t begin to understand how it felt to pull on crusty old work boots—too big, so she stuffed in rolled-up socks—to help clean out the manure ditches, holding her breath but getting a real kick out of the earthiness of country living.

  ‘‘I’d like to pick up where we left off,’’ she heard Trey saying. ‘‘I should never have walked away. . . .’’

  She wrinkled her nose at the thought of getting too intimately involved, especially distasteful after having broken off her engagement to Michael not so long ago. I wish he wouldn’t pressure me.

  ‘‘I don’t know,’’ she said, suddenly dreading the notion of spending time with Trey. This came as a surprise because she had been enjoying his attention since coming here to Paradise, had even been attracted to him. But now?

  His voice was softer now, almost irresistible. ‘‘Sure you know, Louisa. Trust me, you’ll love London.’’

  She inhaled, slow and long. ‘‘No, Trey. It’s nice of you to ask, but I’m staying here.’’

  He didn’t challenge her but promised to keep in touch. Then, quickly, she said good-bye and hung up.

  She smiled to herself when she began to ponder maybe it wasn’t only her love of simplicity that had prompted her to refuse Trey’s invitation. Maybe it had more to do with Sam. . . .

  She hadn’t told Annie, but she had exchanged a few hellos with one of the young Amish men at the Preaching services recently—Samuel Glick, who went by the nickname Sam. It wasn’t that she had a crush on him in the typical sense of the word. But she found herself strangely intrigued by him.

  Heading out the back door, she called to Annie, who came running out of the barn to catch up. Then, raising her skirt, Louisa climbed into the right side of the carriage, still finding it amazing she could get in and out dressed like this . . . not to mention handle a horse.

  When she and Annie arrived at the inn on Paradise Lane, they found the front door unlocked, and since it was so early, they simply tiptoed upstairs to Courtney’s room. There they discovered her sound asleep. They stood at the foot of the canopy bed, observing the mound of covers and the beautiful quilt.

  ‘‘She’s out cold,’’ Louisa whispered. ‘‘No way she’ll be ready now for breakfast or Preaching. . . .’’

  ‘‘I say we shake her good—that’ll get her up,’’ Annie said jokingly.

  Louisa considered Annie’s suggestion. She wished they could let Courtney sleep off her jet lag, but if so, they would not see her again until much later in the day.

  Gingerly she sat on the edge of the bed and whispered Courtney’s name.

  Zero response.

  She jiggled against the bed slightly, but again nothing.

  Finally she jostled Courtney’s arm. Her friend awakened, but it wasn’t pretty.

  ‘‘Hmm? Oh, hey, Louisa. Is it morning already? I had trouble sleeping.’’ She raised her head slightly off the pillow. ‘‘I took a sleeping pill around two o’clock.’’

  Yikes, thought Louisa, pulling the covers higher in an attempt to tuck her friend back in. ‘‘I’ll skip Preaching service and come back for you in a few hours,’’ she offered.

  Courtney’s eyes drooped shut. ‘‘Nah, you go ahead. I’ll have to sleep this off . . . past noon or so.’’

  Louisa rose, still looking down at her friend. ‘‘This afternoon, then?’’

  Courtney gave no response.

  ‘‘She’s out but good,’’ Annie said softly. ‘‘Ain’t so keen on church, I take it.’’

  Neither was I at first, Louisa realized.

  On the way back from the B&B, Louisa hurried the horse, Betsy, enjoying the feel of the reins even more since talking to Trey. The morning was sunny but freezing cold, and she embraced the familiarity of Annie’s companionship.

  ‘‘Too bad Courtney didn’t get a good night’s sleep,’’ Annie said.

  ‘‘Yeah, not many people have the chance to attend an Amish Preaching service—and she snoozes it.’’

  ‘‘Oh, she isn’t the first person to snooze through a preaching,’’ Annie said, grinning.

  Louisa giggled, surprised at Annie’s joke.

  ‘‘She might’ve enjoyed it,’’ Annie continued wryly. ‘‘Or at least found some humor, ya know. All the Plain costumes crammed into one room.’’

  Louisa snorted. ‘‘She’ll get over it . . . jah?’’

  Annie poked her playfully. ‘‘You and your jahs.’’

  ‘‘It’s just so much fun.’’

  Annie leaned forward. ‘‘Are you enjoying your time here, really?’’

  ‘‘Well, sure.’’ Louisa looked away, not sure she was r
eady to share too much. Fact was, as much as she loved Amish country, just seeing Courtney again had made her homesick. It reminded her, too, that she hadn’t heard from her parents in the longest time. Maybe they’ve given up on me.

  ‘‘Nobody’s keeping you here, ya know,’’ Annie said, as if reading her. ‘‘I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you wanted to follow Courtney home. It’s been so much fun just havin’ you—’’

  Again, she thought of Trey’s sudden invitation. ‘‘Annie? Listen to me . . . I’m not going anywhere, unless you’re tired of me.’’

  ‘‘Oh, you. How could that be?’’ Annie was quiet for a moment. ‘‘And I understand, too . . . how it feels to be lonesome.’’

  Louisa nodded, her thoughts wandering now to Michael.

  ‘‘I mean to say, no matter how peaceful it seems here, no matter where you grew up, home is always home. I’m sure Ben Martin misses Kentucky, too.’’ Annie gasped and clapped her hand over her own mouth.

  ‘‘Wha-at?’’ Louisa giggled. ‘‘Where did that come from?’’

  Annie mumbled through her hand. ‘‘ ’Tis hard to say.’’

  ‘‘You can’t fool me. You like him, so what’s wrong with admitting it?’’

  ‘‘Just everything, really.’’

  Louisa jerked her head in a nod. ‘‘But why? Maybe it’s time you got to know him. Find out if there’s any potential there.’’

  ‘‘Ach, for goodness’ sake . . . potential for what?’’ Annie shook her head. ‘‘You can’t be serious.’’

  The Zooks’ lane came into view, and Louisa pulled hard on the rein. ‘‘I guess it’s something you’ll never know, then.’’

  Annie smiled. ‘‘I have no intention of knowin’. Ben’s not for me. End of story.’’

  ‘‘Fine. Don’t find out. That’s cool.’’

  They looked at each other—the sort of knowing glance between close friends—and burst into laughter.

  Following the common meal on Sunday, Louisa noticed Sam Glick walking around the long table, heading toward her.

  Annie was off chatting with two of her sisters-in-law and several other young women, so Louisa didn’t feel quite as uneasy as she might have when he leaned down and asked, ‘‘How’re you today, Louisa?’’

  She looked up, aware of the confidence in his gaze, the way his eyes drew her.

  ‘‘Wanna go for a walk?’’ His voice was low.

  Doesn’t he know who I am?

  She looked around to see if anyone was observing them. Surely Sam knew she wasn’t one of them. ‘‘Well, if you think it’s a good idea . . . I mean—’’

  ‘‘Seems like a nice day for a walk, jah.’’

  She wouldn’t laugh. The day was bitterly cold and no one in their right mind would want to go walking in this weather. Yet she found herself saying yes.’’

  Annie couldn’t help but notice what a striking pair they made: Lou wrapped in a heavy woolen shawl over her dark blue cape dress and white apron, and Sam, one of Jesse Jr.’s best friends. Sam was taller than Annie had realized till now, looking downright handsome, his broad shoulders filling out his black split-tail frock coat. Still unhitched at twenty-three, Sam was clean-shaven and wearing newly pressed black broadfall trousers. Dark hair clean and shiny as can be, his bangs peeked out from beneath his winter hat as he strolled with Louisa through the slush and snow.

  Ach, interesting . . .

  Louisa had never mentioned Sam during their long nightly chats. Annie had noticed, however, that following the last Sunday singing, Sam had sought Louisa out. Just as he had today.

  Now Annie watched as they trudged out onto the narrow farm road that led to the vast whiteness of the dormant cornfield behind Deacon Byler’s farmhouse.

  Best not to interfere. Annie stood at the kitchen window, observing Sam’s long gait and Louisa’s ladylike pace. I wonder what they’re talking about. . . .

  Lest she become too curious, she turned to search for her friend, Esther Hochstetler, and found her rocking infant Essie Ann near the wood stove at the far end of the kitchen.

  ‘‘How’re you and the children makin’ out over at Julia’s?’’ asked Annie softly, still thinking how peculiar it was for Lou to go off with Sam like that.

  Esther smiled prettily, her blue eyes brighter than Annie had seen them in some time. ‘‘This here babe’s my big reason for getting up in the mornin’.’’ She went on to talk about Essie’s first real smile, the ‘‘precious little cooing,’’ and ‘‘so many dear, wee things,’’ as if Esther were a brand-new mother. Then, quickly, she spoke of Laura, Zach, and little John. ‘‘The children miss their father somethin’ awful,’’ she confided in a whisper.

  ‘‘I’m sure you miss Zeke, too.’’ Annie glanced about her to see if they were being overheard.

  ‘‘I best be talkin’ with you ’bout that here before too long.’’ Esther blinked back the tears.

  Annie patted her hand. ‘‘I ’spect you’re confused . . . understandably so.’’

  Esther sighed. ‘‘I miss seein’ you. We don’t have enough time to, well . . . talk plainly when you come to Julia’s to work.’’ Esther lifted the baby onto her shoulder. ‘‘I also don’t want to wear out my welcome at the Rancks’, ya know.’’

  ‘‘I doubt that’s possible,’’ Annie said, knowing her cousin Julia as she did. ‘‘You’re mighty welcome to stay as long as need be, and that’s the truth. My cousin has said so repeatedly.’’

  ‘‘Well . . . I sometimes worry ’bout that. Zeke wanted to visit last evening, but he was so belligerent Irvin had to take him aside, Julia told me later. She said he’d have to be seein’ Irvin for coffee every couple of days—for a good long while—before they’d consider letting him spend time with me alone.’’

  Annie reached over to touch Essie’s tiny rosy cheek. She thought of the colors necessary to paint such a sweet face, if she were allowed. ‘‘You mean to say Zeke hasn’t even laid eyes on this little one yet?’’

  ‘‘Sadly, nee—no.’’ Esther looked away, as if to deny more tears. ‘‘ ’Tis his own fault, I daresay.’’

  ‘‘Such a hard time it is for you.’’

  Esther nodded her head slowly. ‘‘Oh, Annie . . . more than you know.’’

  Annie pulled up a chair. ‘‘Well, if Irvin’s decided to take Zeke under his guidance, so to speak, that’s a wonderfulgood thing.’’

  Esther dabbed a hankie at her eyes with her free hand. ‘‘I know ’tis . . . jah, for sure. It’s just that . . . well, I do miss him quite a lot. In spite of everything.’’ She blinked fast, still struggling. ‘‘And to make matters worse, I’ve got me a bad case of the baby blues.’’

  ‘‘Aw, Essie . . .’’

  Esther’s lower lip trembled uncontrollably.

  ‘‘My sister-in-law says there are good herbal teas to help with that.’’

  ‘‘Oh, jah, I forgot. I know just which one I’ll brew up.’’

  ‘‘Well, I’m glad we talked today.’’

  Esther nodded; then she looked up at her. ‘‘I would also like to know what’s good for a broken heart. . . .’’ Her words hung in the air.

  ‘‘S’posin’ if I knew that, I’d be quick to tell you.’’ Truth be known, making Ben’s acquaintance had somehow begun to soothe Annie’s own brittle heart, strange as it seemed.

  Louisa was surprised when she realized how far they had walked into the silent field. Caught up in interesting conversation with this country boy who insisted on calling her Freind—Pennsylvania Dutch for ‘‘friend’’—she had lost track of time. And her good sense, she feared.

  ‘‘I’m glad we had this chance to get alone . . . if only for a bit.’’ He looked over his shoulder at the distant Byler farmhouse. ‘‘Can I talk you into comin’ over to the barn singing at my father’s place tonight?’’

  What’s he thinking, asking me out? She wondered what Courtney would want to do tonight, as well. Having her here complicates things even more.

  S
he tried to guess what he might be thinking behind his spectacular green eyes. ‘‘I hope you aren’t fooled by my Plain dress,’’ she said. ‘‘I have no intention of becoming Amish . . . I only wear Annie’s dresses and aprons so I’ll fit in here for the time being. Don’t want to cause trouble for the preacher’s daughter.’’

  He smiled and tilted his head to shade it from the afternoon sun. ‘‘Seems to me Annie finds trouble a-plenty as it is. All the fellas are still scratchin’ their heads over her— well, her and Rudy Esh. ’Course, now he’s married to Susie, but Annie really hurt him by lettin’ him go and all.’’

  She wasn’t about to say she knew much of anything about that. It was not her place and none of his business, and she was fairly sure he would respect that. Maybe he’d brought her out here, far from the homestead, to see what he could get her to say about Annie. ‘‘Sometimes it’s best if relationships fail. That’s all. Rudy looks very happy with his bride.’’ She found that saying bride reminded her, once again, of how she’d nearly made it to the bridal altar herself. And she thought again of Trey, how his pushing, even though it was long-distance and via voice mail, really annoyed her.

  ‘‘That Annie Zook’s one fine catch, but no one seems to be able to get her attention much.’’ Sam was still smiling broadly, but it was clear to Louisa that Annie wasn’t the girl he was most interested in at the moment.

  He told her of his surreptitious stint at Harrisburg Area Community College, on the Old Philadelphia Pike, and Louisa was shocked at his openness. ‘‘I had no idea,’’ she said, wondering how he ever would’ve fit in.

  ‘‘I didn’t dress Plain, mind you. I did my best not to stick out, just as you are doin’ here, Louisa.’’

  ‘‘What did you study?’’

  ‘‘Business, and I got what I was after. I finished up all my courses . . . graduated with a three-point-eight, but only a few know. The brethren weren’t so happy with me, but they figured I was in rumschpringe. You know about that?’’